


No Rain

by Digi_Wears_Goggles



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Agender Frisk, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, Depression, Emetophobia, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Drama, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Gen, Gen Work, Post-Undertale Soulless Pacifist Route, Sans just talk about your problems please, Sans-centric, Selectively Mute Frisk, Soft Chara, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2018-07-29 19:03:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 104,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7695778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Digi_Wears_Goggles/pseuds/Digi_Wears_Goggles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They had made it to the surface and that was great. Then again, Sans had thought that a couple times already and it hadn't saved him from waking up with no stars in the end. </p><p>After countless resets, Sans finally has a breakdown and leaves town, which isn't exactly surprising. The real question is if he'll let anyone else pick up the pieces.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. life is pretty plain

**Author's Note:**

> Because even in this cute little game where love and friendship saves everyone, all you ever get from Sans is a depressed little "just give up, i did" that he never takes back. This poor skeleton has problems and they had to catch up to him eventually, and I had to write it because I'm a jerk. It'll turn out okay. Probably. Expect lots of Sans character study, lots of his relationships with everybody else and quite a bit on Frisk may not be doing much better. Also some background Undyne/Alphys and small hints of Sans/Toriel and Papyrus/Mettaton, but it's not the focus so I'm not going to tag it.
> 
> Also angst. So much angst.
> 
> I can't promise I'll finish this since I work two jobs and they may catch up with me, but while I'm inspired I'll write what I can. I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> The tile of the fic and the name of this chapter both come from the song No Rain by Blind Melon.
> 
> WARNINGS: If depressive thoughts and actions, suicidal thoughts and the occasional somewhat horrific description of the Genocide run are upsetting to you, I don't recommend this fic.

You are so tired.

Sweat drips from your skull in streams, gathers in pools at your collarbone, dries in a salted gum to your teeth. It’s disgusting, an absurd magical function. The puffs of hot breath in your rib cage are equally insulting, gasps of air doing little to ward off the telltale rattle of your knees. Papyrus had been right, you should have been working out after all.

 You think of your brother. It fills you with determination.

 “Hah…. yeah, right!” The thought draws a wheezing, bitter laugh from you. It nearly knocks you off you slippered feet, but it keeps you awake, so there’s also that. You shake your head, fix flickering pinpoints on your opponent and the knife in their hand. You will not fall asleep, you _cannot_ , because you know what happens if you do. You’ve been here before, you both have. The two of you are trapped in this endless, stupid dance with your rapt audience of stained glass and silence.

You will not forget, but that doesn’t really matter, does it?

 They have not stopped smiling, but neither have you this time around, so at least you’ll tie in something. Barely a tick on the scoreboard, but then again you’d still managed to kill them ten times (or was it twelve, or fifteen?) so you guess that’s fair. You let out a long, shaking breath.

“Hey,” you mumble. “Are you just some kinda sick freak or something? How many times has it been now? I’m all outta speeches, it’s not like there’s anything new here. Or are you just feeling _bonely_?”

They don’t even blink through the dust coating their face. Your ribs shudder from the effort your laughter takes from you. “Fair enough, guess I’m gettin’ lazy.” You try to shrug but your shoulders are as heavy as the mountain hanging above your head, entombing you both. You are so tired. You’d say death is preferable, but you’ve been stabbed enough times to know that’s not true. 

The room spins. Your breathing slows, your eyes flicker and fall shut, the world spins as you feel the insistent tug of the floor, pulling you down, down..

The movement is subtle, a knife cutting through the air. You jump back anyway, bones acting on reflex learned only after countless burns. The game, the dance is on again. The world is back in focus, that stupid music looping back into infinity (was it their music or yours, you don’t know anymore) as your bones provide the percussion. A torrential downpour of bones, lightning flashes of blue energy, the thunderclap of a small body weighted to the floor by whatever was left of their soul. 

You can’t think anymore. You’re slowing down. Dragging. The mountain is so heavy but you fight, you wheeze, everything is too fast, too much, if you could just get a second to remember how this went last time you—

You miss a step.

A flash of glittering red eyes. A smile where there shouldn’t be one and it’s wide, too wide, wide like your eyes and your stance, too open.

The knife hits and with a choked gasp you—

 —

 Sans woke in an unfamiliar bed.

This would have been dramatic were it not for his sheets, which chose that particular moment to show their true colors. They tangled around his arms in some mockery of their intended purpose, had him thrashing in their grip for a good twenty seconds before he finally threw them aside. He remained upright, gulping in unnecessary air as if he'd drowned. It took several minutes for this to subside, a minute afterwards to tick off the familiar landmarks of his room. Dusty treadmill, computer, desk, sock tornado. Sunlight rudely peeked its way past his blinds, capturing dust motes in its glow and casting a stuffy haze over all it touched.

Sunlight. The surface. Right. Sans let out a groan as he fell back onto the bare mattress, fighting to ignore the throbbing the motion caused. Same timeline, or at least that’s what the evidence pointed to. Some good news for once.

It wasn’t that he always remembered. From his estimates it was one in three resets, and even then he had no way of knowing if that math was correct. That hypothesis was a volatile mixture of actual memory and deja vu, alongside a pinch of guesswork and his scribbled notes. Even the idea of a hypothosis was laughable, it wasn't like the scientific method was much use in this situation.Books hadn’t exactly prepared him for this. Then again, he couldn't remember the last time he’d actually bothered to check a book, so whatever.

Sans let out a laugh, then grimaced as he recalled similar laughter whistling from the wound in his torso. Well, thank goodness he could still remember _that_.

He couldn’t be entirely sure where memory became his own carefully placed suggestion. Memory was a fickle thing when it came down to it, images and feelings scrapbooked together by hastily scribbled notes in his own voice. Whether locked in his skull or on paper, the result was the same. His thoughts were always subtly stained different hues by emotion in spite of his efforts, so the information would be warped. Eventually time would take the memories, chewing the life from them until words became meaningless and pages stuck together. Inevitably, all he'd be recalling was the echoes of the story he'd told himself to hold onto.

“Whoa there friend, you may need to slow down,” He muttered to himself, scrubbing at his eyesockets with his palm. His room was uncomfortably warm even with the box fan fighting to valiantly keep up airflow, and the sunlight wasn’t helping. Outside, the cicadas droned. Seasons were a pretty great novelty, but he was finding his first (or was it fifth?) experience with humidity particularly unpleasant. The heat of the Hotlands mixed with the wet of Waterfall, leaving everything sticky and gross. The lack of rain wasn’t really helping.

Sans rose with a groan, his joints popping and cracking like a drumline as he shuffled over to his desk. He squinted down at his notepad, thin fingertips brushing across tickmarks. After counting in his head he grasped for a pencil, awkwardly fumbling with it. The thing had been worn down to the point where actually using the lead was barely an option, but he didn’t feel like hunting through the trash tornado for the sharpener. He scrubbed a dull, half-hearted tickmark on the lined paper, more a carving into the material than a written symbol.

Day four hundred and forty-three. Well over a year and the longest a timeline had held, if his notes were correct. Of course, he could never entirely be sure, but whatever.

He strode right past his newest pair of slippers. After stumbling his way through through time and space to the kitchen, Sans grasped at the coffee pot handle like a lifeline. The on switch glowed wearily up at him. Apparently the machine was as tired as he was, given the lack of real heat from the burner. Welp, that was the real price of the clearance rack, huh? Lukewarm liquid sloshed into his waiting mug, some of it splattering onto the counter, but Sans paid the mess no heed. The added sugar mostly turned his drink into a gritty, room temperature sludge. He sipped it anyway.

 “Just part of the daily grind,” Sans snorted to himself. That one was too lazy even for Toriel, she deserved a higher caliber of pun. 

The skeleton let out a sigh as he leaned back against the counter for a moment, flickering pinpricks gazing out at the rest of the apartment, or what little there was to see. A living room, a kitchen, two bedrooms and a bathroom, with plenty of threadbare carpet to stretch between it all. Cheap, but a reasonable price if he and Papyrus intended to get a house again. Besides, between the lumpiest second-hand couch they could find, the laundry piles and Toriel’s paw-sewn curtains, the place almost felt like home.

Sort of.

He was just contemplating the use of some aspirin when the front door slammed open, as if the ensuing caps lock had been summoned by his very thoughts. “BROTHER!” Papyrus called out, posing dramatically in the entryway. “I HAVE RETURNED FROM MY PLACE OF EMPLOYMENT!” 

Sans flashed something between a grin and a grimace, squeezing one eye shut against the sharp pain shooting through his temple. “Hey there, soldier, how go the retail trenches?”

“THERE WERE MANY HUMANS! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, DUTIFULLY GREETED THEM AND INFORMED THEM OF OUR RIDICULOUSLY LOW PRICES!” Papyrus declared as he slammed the door shut behind him, the entire apartment shaking with the action. “SOME DID NOT GREET BACK SO I SIMPLY DID AS UNDYNE SUGGESTED AND GREETED HARDER. IT—“

There was a loud banging from beneath his feet, causing both skeletons to flinch. Papyrus lowered his volume as he plopped onto the threadbare carpet. “I encountered more of those strange half-children today.” 

“Teenagers,” Sans reminded him. “The word you’re looking for is teenagers. You know, like the Snowdrake kids and Icecap, but human."

“Yes, yes, between-agers,” Papyrus agreed, waving his long fingers dismissively. “They keep visiting and asking me if it is Halloween and I am in costume. In fact, this is the third week that they have come in and asked that, even though it is still summer. I do not understand why this is so confusing to them. I  _tried_ to get a calendar to explain this very simple concept to them, but they do not seem to get it. Why would I be i n costume in August? I certainly hope Toriel is educating the new generation a little better.” He unlaced his sneakers lovingly before placing them neatly on the shoe rack. His jaw then tugged into a frown as he spotted the graveyard of much smaller shoes and old slippers right next to it. “SANS, HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I ASKED YOU TO USE THE SHOE RACK? IT IS THERE FOR—“ More pounding beneath their feet, both brothers flinched. “It is there for shoes.”

“Look, I admit I just didn’t train them properly, okay?” Sans drawled as he took another sip of coffee. “You’ve got some good, upstanding shoes there Paps, civilized and made for this modern era. My shoes are wild, they just aren’t meant for the city. They gotta roam free, its in their _soles_.”

Papyrus threw an old slipper at him. It arced perfectly into the empty sink.

“Ten points,” Sans chirped from his new place on the couch.

His brother rolled his eyes as he stood, though the expression was lost as he shrugged his work polo off. “We will have to do laundry tonight, this shirt is disgusting,” He grimaced as he held the shirt away from him, clad in an undershirt and khakis that seemed equally worse for wear thanks to the heat.

“Aw, but we just went. C’mon bro, nobody else washes their work shirt every day,” Sans groaned as he draped himself facedown over the back of the couch.

“Yes, but they _should_ ,” Papyrus huffed as he lovingly removed his nametag. He polished it with the edge of his undershirt, then apparently deemed it satisfactory. He dropped it in a bowl alongside several keys and some some loose change. “It is disrespectful to arrive at work with anything less than your best and that absolutely includes body oder. Besides, you have enough dirty socks that we could visit Wash World every evening for a month and we’d _still_ be buried in your filth.” 

“Eh, that’s fair,” Sans shrugged as he rolled over, head lolling against the backside of the couch. He sipped at his coffee upside down, the liquid dutifully maintaining its place in his mug in spite of gravity.

Papyrus wandered his way into the kitchen, then gave a groan. “Sans, you can’t put the empty coffee pot back on the burner, the glass will break!” There was the click of a switch being flipped, followed by the rush of water. “And you could have at least rinsed it out!”

“Sorry bro, didn’t even think about it.” Sans called back. “I guess you could say I had a _latte_ on my mind.”

Another groan. “Your jokes are more insulting than your mess.” A squeak as the faucet was turned off,followed by the sound of the fridge being opened. “You did not go grocery shopping like I asked, did you?”

“Uh…” Sans grimaced. “Whoops?”

Papyrus sighed, nudging one of the topmost cabinets open and pulling out a plastic, slightly battered cup. “I don’t suppose you went job-hunting either?” He asked, clearly trying and failing to sound casual on the subject.

“Of course I did,” The lie came easily enough, was familiar now. “Online applications, bro.”

“It is better to go in person, it shows you take initiative. Which, granted, you do not, but you could at least pretend,” Papyrus pointed out as he flicked the faucet back on and filled the cup. He gulped the liquid down, then made a face. “We need to get a filter like Toriel has. Undyne is right, city water tastes strange.”

“Mmm,” Sans had pulled his phone from his shorts pocket and was now dutifully scrolling his way through the news. Asgore was working on a Remembrance Day for the fallen humans. This news article on the Undernet had significantly less views than the teaser trailer for Mettaton's new reality show, though both comment sections were equally volatile.

Papyrus flopped down on the couch next to him with a sigh. He glanced over his brother appraisingly. “You have worn the same clothes for three days in a row now.”

“Mmmhmm,” Sans agreed as he glanced over the weather. Goodie, there was no end in sight to the heatwave.

“Did you just get up?” Papyrus asked suspiciously.

“You don’t know that,” Sans replied through a slurp of coffee.

“It is four in the afternoon, Sans. That coffee has been sitting here since I left at six, you should not be drinking it.”

Slurp.

“Sans!” Papyrus snatched the half-empty mug from his brother’s fingers. The lukewarm sugar and coffee sludge shakily floated in the air for a moment, but fortunately Papyrus righted the mug just in time. 

“Whoa there, buddy, that was a risky move for somebody who’s so worried about our security deposit,” Sans chirped from behind the nearby closed bathroom door. 

Papyrus let out a frustrated groan. “You’re impossible!”

Sans heard some shuffling, followed by the sound of running water. He couldn’t help but chuckle, Papyrus couldn’t leave a mess for more than a minute if he tried.

He took a moment to observe himself in the mirror, his usual grin fading. His eye sockets were sinking into the bone, heavy from lack of sleep, and the pinpricks of light in his eyes flickered. Okay, so maybe going to bed at four AM hadn’t been the best choice. He was finding it harder and harder to convince himself to sleep. If he slept, the next day would come and... well, he had no way of knowing if that next day would be here or somewhere farther back. Which was stupid, of course, because tomorrow would come regardless of how late he stayed up playing sentry for it with the internet and some shitty memes for company.

But it was still better than the dreams, so he’d take it.

A minute later had Sans popping into his usual seat on the kitchen countertop. He plucked his now clean mug from the dish rack beside him and began dutifully drying it. “So,” he spoke over the roar of the faucet. “ _Water_ we going to do about dinner?”

“Not Grillby’s,” Papyrus sighed as he took the now dry mug without missing a beat and returned it to one of the higher shelves in the cabinet.

“Lame,” Sans drawled as he scrubbed at a newly cleaned cereal bowl.

The two worked in companionable silence for awhile, the only noise coming from the clink of dishware, the running water and Papyrus’ cheerful hum. It was a scene that could have fit anywhere, a constant that seemed comforting but for how easily Sans knew it could be torn away. He tried not to think about it, focusing instead on rush of water and his brother’s hum, occasionally providing a backup tap on the countertop for a beat.

“Toriel’s?” Sans suggested as he polished the last bowl. “We could pick up some groceries on the way, I’m sure she’d appreciate it.”

His brother nodded as he turned the faucet off. “Yes, but you are not leaving this house until you change your shirt. And no hoodie either, it’s too hot for that.”

“Aw, don’t be so _clothes-minded_.”

Papyrus flung water droplets at the spot where Sans had been.

—

Toriel’s house was exactly what one would expect. It was a modest thing the group had all chipped in together on in spite of the boss monster’s protests. She had only relented when reminded of how much better it would be for Frisk to have a permanent roof over their head instead of a crummy apartment. Of course, with the house being the last stop on Undyne and Papyrus’ morning runs, Sans’ frequent visits for tea and pun exchanges, and Alphys’ weekly (or sometimes even daily) anime viewings, it was rare that Toriel and Frisk were really alone.

It was important for family to stick together, so there was no better place than mom’s.

Sans smiled at the thought as he sunk back into an overstuffed armchair. A summer breeze mercifully rustled it way past paw-sewn curtains, past the whirring ceiling fan and out through another open window. Unlike the apartment, Toriel’s house had decent airflow, so the heat was at least bearable here. Flowers bloomed from vases on every available table space, bouquets of expertly trimmed golden petals from Asgore mixed with daisies and wildflowers that had been plucked from roadsides by tiny fingers.Framed photos and albums joined them, memories of beach day outings, birthdays, their first Christmas…

Okay, not really the first, but Sans pushed that thought away with a grimace. He sighed and adjusted the strings on his hoodie, falling back again.

“I can’t believe you’re wearing that,” Undyne groaned from below. She was sprawled out on the wood floor clad only in loose shorts and a tank top. Her loose red hair spread out above her head, gills wheezing. “How are you not _dying_?”

“‘What is dead may never die’,” Sans chirped, then grinned knowingly as Alphys beamed at the reference. He’d seen enough Undernet posts to know she and Undyne had been really into Game of Thrones lately.

 “You are the least Ironborn person I know,” The fishwoman grumbled, though her tone softened somewhat as Alphys ran claws gently through her hair. “Ugh, babe, no fair, ‘m trying to be _cranky_ here…”

“I know. We should really convince Her Majesty to get an air conditioner," Alphys sighed.

“She’d never do it,” Udyne sighed. “Too practical. The humans say it's this hot, what, one week outta the year?”

“I dunno, I kinda like this,” Sans piped up after a moment of silence, picking his head up to grin down at the girls. “I’m finally fashionable.” Undyne’s brow furrowed in confusion, which only made Sans grin wider. “Everybody’s wearing sweatpants.”

Undyne snorted, Alphys groaned. “You are the _worst_ , Sans!” Papyrus howled from the kitchen over Toriel’s tittering laughter and Frisk’s giggles.

“I know!” Sans called back. If his laughter seemed a little hollow, nobody noticed.

Sans simply laid there for awhile, listening to Undyne and Alphys’ lazy chatter as pots and pans clanged in the kitchen. Toriel was proving to be a better cooking teacher than Undyne, but her patience still did little to taper his brother’s enthusiasm. From what he could gather, the two of them and the kid were in the process of making some kind of quiche. Or at least that seemed to be the idea, but he could hear Toriel tutting over the ingredients. “If I’d known you were going to pick up groceries, I would have asked you to get more eggs.” 

“DO WE NOT HAVE ENOUGH!?” Papyrus gasped. “Never fear, I, the great Papyrus, will run to my store and get some! We have a sale going on where you can get two for the low, low price of one sixty-nine! They come from free range chickens, which I suspect is far better than regular range chickens? I am not actually certain what the difference is.” 

“No, no, that is all right,” Toriel hummed. “We have just enough, although I appreciate you telling me about the sale. We’ll simply have to go grocery shopping tomorrow. Frisk, dear, could you help me measure out the flour?”

There was silence for a moment, then Toriel laughed and Papyrus let out a long-suffering sigh. Sans could only assume Frisk had signed some sort of pun and grinned. It took some real skill to manage puns with sign language. He couldn’t be more proud.

Sans let out a sigh, letting his eye sockets fall shut. A familiar heaviness overtook him as he took in the scent of flowers and clean linen, let the words wash over him in a haze of white noise and anchor his heavy bones to the chair. It was impossible to shake the idea that this could be gone at any moment, but the familiarity of it meant he could pretend. He was so tired. 

There was a wet splat from the kitchen, followed by a few more. “Oh!” Toriel gasped. “Looks like I spoke too soon on those eggs.”

“Do not worry, I have prepared for this moment!” Papyrus boomed, his voice growing louder as he darted for the front door. “I will be to the store and back faster than you can say _kweh-sh_!”

“It’s pronounced ‘ _quiche_ ’, man,” Undyne deadpanned from the floor. 

Sans eyes remained closed as the chaos washed over him, his breathing slowing as he caught Toriel’s gentle reassurances. “Don’t worry about it Frisk, dear, let’s get a washcloth so we can clean this—“

The world stuttered. 

Sans bucked upright from the armchair with a jolt, eyes flickering into focus.

“If I’d known you were going to pick up groceries, I would have asked you to get more eggs…” Toriel’s voice echoed from the kitchen. Sans choked on his own gasping breath, clasping at his chest with boney fingers.

“Uh… you okay, dude?” Undyne asked from the floor, brow furrowing in concern. She then flashed a sly smile. “What, you have a nightmare about getting less than twelve hours of beauty sleep?”

Sans gave a hollow laugh, grasping at the arms of the chair like a lifeline. “Haha, yeeeaah… yeah…” He rose on shaky feet, bare bones clattering against the wood floor as he stumbled toward the kitchen.

Another reset. Over eggs. What the _hell_.

“Oh, is old lazybones here to help?” Papyrus exclaimed as Sans stuantered in.

“No way bro, you know what they say about too many cooks,” Sans drawled as he glanced around. His eyelights finally settled on a blue and magenta striped tank top. The skeleton reached down to rustle a mop of unruly brown hair, causing his victim to let out a squeak and bat his hands away. 

Frisk spun around and pouted up at him. “You causing trouble in here, kiddo?” Sans asked, raising a brow meaningfully. The child’s expression faltered slightly before they flashed a somewhat guilty smile and shrugged. 

“Oh Sans, you know Frisk never causes any trouble!” Toriel laughed. “Perhaps a bit of mischief, but they’re a good child.”

Sans stared at the kid for a moment, then sighed and patted Frisk’s head again-- perhaps a little hard. “Course not, what am I saying? Nothing worth breaking a few eggs over, right?” He brushed past them to a fridge practically wallpapered with crayon drawings, then opened it. It _wasn’t_ worth getting worked up over, of course the kid who saved the whole underground just by hugging it out would want to avoid something as simple as messing up dinner for everybody. Stupid, but understandable, assuming this was still _the kid_ and not somebody else…

He tried to ignore the way his fingers shook as he reached for one of the ketchup bottles Toriel always kept on hand for him.

Sans was just popping the lid off when he heard Toriel gasp again, heard the puff in the air of the bag of flour dropping to the floor and the splat of the eggs once more. Damnit. Instantly they were all reduced to coughing and hacking, arms waving every which way in an effort to dissipate the cloud that had fallen over the kitchen.

The skeleton coughed, turned back to face the chaos. “Whoa there Tori, you—“

White dust nearly obscuring blue and magenta stripes, gathering on top of hair like snow. Hands covered in white, so much white, a knife clenched in a fist.

His hand shot out on reflex, fingertips flung outward. Six blasters were summoned in a burst of blue flame and the roar of a jet engine, light pooling in their mouths like stars. Bones clattered from everywhere and nowhere, a cacophony of sound and sharp edges, poised and ready. Cabinet doors flung open from the force of it all, the pie dish hit the floor in an explosion of glass. 

A pair of eyes blinked back at him, wide open for the first time in ages and absolutely terrified. Dark brown. No red.

Sans froze. Nobody breathed.

The bones hung in the air, blasters wheezed as if alive. His eye burned. Papyrus’ jaw had dropped, Toriel clutched at her chest. Undyne poised at the kitchen doorway, glowing spear in hand, her eye wide.

Frisk let out a hiccuping gasp.

Bones clattered to the floor in a rain, Sans’ arm dropping to his side. The blasters vanished in an instant. Undyne was on him in seconds, strong arms joining Papyrus’ hands on his shoulders as they both pulled him back. Toriel had flung herself between him and Frisk, gathering her child in her grasp. Moments later, Alphys was running from the living room, eyes wide.

There was a lot of yelling.

“Frisk!? Frisk, are you all right!?” Toriel cried. Her paws went over every possible inch of Frisk’s body, checking for injuries.

“What the FUCK, dude!?” Undyne snarled where his ear would be, her grip so hard on his shoulder his bones creaked.

“Undyne, be careful, he’s not— Sans, _what was that about_ , Sans!?” Papyrus sputtered.

“What happened, what was that noise, why is everyone yelling, what happened!?” Alphys cried out.

Sans just stared. His eyes were completely blank, stuck on the space where Frisk would have been. He was shielded from their expression by Toriel’s back. 

No. Nonono. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t be—

He couldn’t.

Sans took a shaky breath, his entire body rattling. His jaw jerked its way into some semblance of a smile, sweat beading on his forehead. “Whoops! Looks like dinner’s ruined, sorry about that. Well, you know what they say, omelets, eggs, you guys _were_ making omelets right? Something like that.” He tried to move, but Undyne’s hand remained on his shoulder, holding him steady. “Look, no worries, I’ll just pop down to the store and grab some more. I know a shortcut.”

Papyrus stepped in front of him, put both hands on his shoulders, met his gaze with a frown. “Sans, don’t you dare—“

“Back in a jiff!” Sans chirped, and in a flash of blue he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! CaitieLou on youtube did a FANTASTIC reading of this first chapter on her youtube account. She did an amazing job and she added music and sound effects and I am absolutely in love with it. Please check it out by searching Undertale Short Stories Vol. 5, I cannot recommend it enough! Also be sure to check out her channel, she does some AMAZING readings of Undertale fanfics. She has great voices, does some amazing work with sound mixing and music and effects and also sometimes has guest voices and they're also amazing and seriously, please check her out. She is so talented and I love her and you will love her too, I promise.


	2. and we're shaking hands with someone we don't know now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two weeks and plenty of day job stress later I've finally cranked out another chapter of this bad boy. Sorry for the wait guys, like I said, two jobs and all. The good news is I've mapped a lot of this bad boy out and we're looking at ten chapters hopefully? We'll see how that goes but for now I'm enjoying writing this. Proceed for some cuteness with Sans and Frisk in the past, lots of characters trying to figure out what the fuck is going without asking properly, and the joys of alcoholism.
> 
> Special thanks goes to Monkey999Boy from FF.net, who gave me the "guilt trip" idea though not exactly in the manner they were expecting, haha.
> 
> Enjoy and please let me know what you think! Feedback is the most inspiring thing for continuing this trainwreck of angst and depressive breakdown-ing.
> 
> Chapter title comes from 'Wake Up' by The Walkmen.

In retrospect you should have known better.

“C’mon kid, let’s go to Grillby’s.”

The words are a familiar echo in the glittering caverns of waterfall. You’ll never skip it, the same way you’ll never skip your date with Papyrus or anything else (although maybe this time you won’t flirt with Toriel _and_ call her mom, that was pretty weird). The talk with Sans was particularly vital here, and you feel your heart swell as you take a step toward a familiar shortcut.

A slippered foot catches your ankle, sends you tumbling to the cavern floor with a yelp.

“Whoops, sorry kiddo!” Sans chirps as he kneels down to help you up, brushing pebbles from your clothes and checking you over. “Didn’t expect ya to step in front of me like that, nobody else knows about this shortcut but me!” He knocks a few more pebbles loose, glittering eyes catching the way you flinch.

“Sorry, did that seem like a bit of a ‘guilt trip’, _Frisk_?” He murmurs. His eyes are dark.

You flinch under his gaze. Because he knows, of course he knows, you don’t know how but Sans _always_ knows. You’re sure it has something to do with silly codewords and that room behind his house, but on your last reset he hadn’t said anything even when you acknowledged it and there had been more pressing goals, somebody who needed you.

His eyes flicker back into focus and he sighs, placing a hand on top of your head. “Are you hurt?” You shake your head. “Good. Let’s take a real walk this time.”

The two of you turn and begin the longer trek back to Snowdin, though you pause long enough to give Monster Kid a wave even as he points out that Undyne was in the other direction. Sans chuckles, shoving his hands in his pockets as he walks. “Never miss an opportunity to make a friend, huh? No, no, it’s a good sentiment, very monster of you.”

You smile at that.

“So anyway, there I was, mindin’ my own business,” Sans begins. “Wake up at noon, have breakfast, forget to feed my pet rock, lay some real zingers on Papyrus before I head to work. Standard morning. Except, see, today’s different. Today this kid walks through the door— a human kid, can you believe it? So naturally I gotta bust out the whoopee cushion, I mean, there’s no choice there! It’s always funny. I’m sure they agree, since otherwise I’m not sure why they keep falling for it— ah, hold on.”

He pauses before the rocky stream and reaches out a skeletal hand. You take it without missing a beat, and abruptly your next step is on solid ground across the water. “Man, Undyne’s even worse at japes than my bro,” Sans hummed. “This isn’t a puzzle, it’s just a great way to get your boots wet. Anyway, back to the story. So all morning I keep getting this nasty feeling of deja vu, so I pop on down to the basement. Nothing out of the ordinary, except for, y’know, this.”

A photograph is pressed into your hands and you wince, taking in the sight of the six of you smiling against the glorious rays of sunrise.

“Why’d you do it, kid?” Sans asks as the first hints of snow begin crunching beneath your feet. “I’d think falling down once would be enough, I didn’t realize it had enough appeal for reruns. Doing the same thing over and over can’t possibly be that great, I would know.”

You shake your head, beginning to sign. _‘I still have things to do.’_

He snorts. “Like what, calling my brother in every room? I mean I know he says some great things but you can get plenty of quality Skele-bro time on the surface.”

_‘No. Somebody to save.’_

This gets him to pause, brow furrowing with an elasticity that didn’t suit his bones. “What do you mean? You’re an expert at helping everybody with their problems at this point, you can even get Alphys to talk…”

You shake your head again. Then you pause and squat down, using your stick to doodle in the snowbank. Gentle eyes, a round face and a warm, fanged smile. Little horns. A striped shirt to match your own and little paws poking out of it.

Sans gives a hum of approval. “Huh, you’re pretty good, kid. It’s so lifelike I’m _drawn_ right to it.” He chuckles at his own joke even when you give him a look. “So who’s that supposed to be? The prince?”

You nod.

He lets out a sigh. “Uh, hate to break it to ya, but he’s dead. Been gone for awhile. Like, before my old bones. He’s-- hey, do you mind?” You’ve begun drawing again, carefully sketching petals around that kind face. Abruptly his fingers close around the stick and he fixes you with a look.

“He’s a story now. It’s better that way. Trust me.”

You shake your head again and he groans. “You’re impossible, you know that? I dunno if you’re gonna like what you find… but there’s no convincing you, is there?” It’s his turn to shake his head and shrug, a resigned smile coming to his face. “Fair enough. I’ve stuck with ya this far and I’ll keep at it, do what you gotta do. After all, I can trust you, right?”

Those flickering stars in his eyes meet yours and there’s a desperation there that does not match the casual nature of his words. Not quite a hope, more the flicker of one, an echo of broken words from a lost soul.

You would not dare to let him down, so all you can do is nod.

He ruffles your hair again. “Fair enough. C’mon, let’s get going, my break’s probably gotta end sometime, right?” He winks as he turns to continue the trek into town.

You move to follow, though your eyes drift to the doodle in the snow for a moment, meeting a smile amongst a crown of flower petals. Words echo in your mind, a strange halfway point between a monstrous sneer and a broken child’s laugh. A worthy goal, but how to proceed was the question?

And then a thought so quiet it seemed to come from someone else, a quiet murmur that you haven’t quite tried everything yet after all…

“Hey, did I ever tell you where burgers go to dance?” Sans calls back to you, making you jump and then smile.

You jog a bit to catch up to him, signing as you run and grinning.

_‘The Meatball?’_

“You got it, kiddo.”

—

“Please be careful, Papyrus,” Toriel’s gentle voice drifted over the sound of dusty glass clinking into a dustpan. “I understand you are a skeleton and cannot really be cut, but I would still hate for you to get hurt. Also try not to walk through the flour if you please.”

“Speak for yourself Your Majesty,” Undyne chided from the doorframe, her broad shoulders barring the boss monster from entry. “You’re the one not wearing shoes.”

“I _AM_ BEING CAREFUL TORIEL!” Papyrus promised. “THOUGH I’M SORRY TO SAY, I DON’T THINK THIS PIE PLATE IS GOING TO MAKE IT.”

“Oh, not to worry. I have plenty just like it, it can go into the trash.” Toriel was focused on running a wet washcloth over Frisk’s face, scrubbing away white flour. The child in question made no reaction, small feet dangling from the armchair, dark eyes staring dully ahead. It was only when Toriel’s gentle paws reached their whitened hands that they flinched, pulling back.

“Frisk?” The goat woman asked, brow furrowed in concern. The child shook their head, reaching for the washcloth with a grabbing motion. Upon receiving their desired prize Frisk began to clean themselves, cool washcloth dipping between fingers, the soft material growing rough with friction as they began to scrub violently at their palms.

Toriel caught their hands in warm paws. “My goodness, there’s no need for this ‘out damned spot’ business!” She said with a smile. “Be more gentle with yourself, sweetheart.”

Frisk didn’t smile back.

The sounds of cleanup duty continued as Alphys nervously clicked away at her phone. Her tail thumped agitatedly against the over-stuffed cushions of the couch, her thick knees and arms pulled inward as if she could curl herself back to an egg. “H-how do you feel about pizza, your majesty?” She finally asked, wincing as if she’d broken a rule by speaking.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN ALPHYS?” Papyrus called out from the kitchen. “MY BROTHER SHOULD BE BACK ANY MINUTE WITH THE EGGS AND WE CAN PROCEED WITH THE QUICHE!”

“I don’t think your brother’s coming back, man,” Undyne grumbled, her words punctuated by a loud ‘ _thump_!’ as she swept a bit too hard and bashed the broom against a cabinet. “Oof. Sorry Toriel, didn’t break anything this time!”

“WHATEVER DO YOU MEAN, UNDYNE?” Papyrus asked. There was a brief burst of tinkling glass falling into the waste basket, several thuds as the skeleton carefully tapped the dust pan to ensure he got everything out.

“I _mean_ we just saw him nearly blast Frisk to smithereens!” The fish monster snapped.“What, are we just not gonna talk about the _giant fucking snake skull lasers_ he pulled out of thin air!?”

“S-she does have a point…” Alphys muttered, scaled shoulders hunching over her phone. “I had no idea he could do that.”

“I AM… sure he didn’t mean anything by it,” Papyrus insisted as he and Undyne wandered into the living room, patches of flour on their clothes but otherwise no worse for wear. The skeleton’s smile was more of a grimace as he rubbed at the back of his skull. “He was just startled, that’s all.”

“Yeah, that’s fair, I also summon demon lasers when I’m startled,” Undyne grumbled as she leaned against the kitchen doorframe, arms crossed across her chest.

“No, but you do spear couch cushions sometimes,” Toriel reminded with a small smile as she finally stepped away from Frisk, flour-caked washcloth in paw.

“It’s called taking _initiative_!” The fish monster snapped, throwing webbed hands in the air as Toriel stepped past her into the kitchen.

Alphys gave a quiet yelp from the couch at her raised voice, tail curling protectively around herself. Undyne winced. “Sorry babe,” She muttered as she quickly made her way across the living room and flopped onto the couch next to her girlfriend, draping a muscled arm over her shoulders. Alphys crumpled into her side, letting out a shaky breath as webbed fingers scratched at the back of her head. “Seriously though, I had no idea your brother could do that. He’s a complete wimp the couple of times you can even get him to practice.”

Papyrus gave a sigh. “Well, it’s not impossible, my magic is similar.”

“Not like that,” Undyne said flatly. Her knee jiggled against the couch, vibrating with agitation she couldn’t seem to suppress. “Sorry Paps, but I’ve seen you fight. You’ve got impressive control but you’ve only managed one of those… _things_ a couple times.”

“A G-Gaster Blaster, right?” Alphys put in, then winced. “Sorry, I just remembered it from when we did the tests, I don’t… I shouldn’t be saying anything.”

“Nah, this is why I asked you to run them in the first place, you know way more about this junk than me!” Undyne said, lightly squeezing her girlfriend’s arm. “But yeah, your blaster thing… I remember it, your special attack, right? The flippin’ sweet glowy deer skull thing!” Her lips stretched into a sharp grin at the memory. “Man, remember when you pulled that out during training? Who woulda thought an innocent guy like you could whip up something like that?”

“I call him Lucy, he’s very sweet!” Papyrus put in helpfully and Undyne laughed.

“Of course you do, Paps. But I’ve only seen you pull him out a couple times, and even then I _really_ had to push you. To be honest in an actual fight I’m not sure you could pull it off, you just don’t have it in you t’ blow somebody to smithereens.”

Papyrus let out a huff at that. “I’ll have you know I’ve been training! Why, in the heat of battle against Frisk, if it weren’t for that dog…” He trailed off, gazing down at the tiny human, then chuckled and reached down to ruffle their hair. “Well, I suppose it’s for the best that I didn’t, hm?”

The memory of a knife plunging into his ribs said otherwise, but Frisk pushed that thought away.

“You have a gentle heart, Papyrus, and we’re very grateful for that,” Toriel said as she returned. “You would never have hurt Frisk. I doubt Sans would either.” Her tone became firm at this, brown eyes surveying the gathering in the living room.

“I didn’t think he even _could_ until today!” Undyne exclaimed, very nearly leaping off the couch once more. “Seriously, where did he learn to do that!? Has he been training with you, Papyrus!?”

The skeleton gave a laugh. “ _My brother_ , exercise!? I’m lucky to get him out of the apartment these days!” Papyrus’ let out a sigh as he gazed out the window, threading long, bony fingers together absently. “His health has always been… a concern, you know that. He’s always been fragile, much more so than me. But he was admittedly very talented when we were younger— again, much more so than me, if you can believe it! I, of course, did my best to inform him of his potential, but Sans was never interested in more than the bare minimum it took to get through our lessons. Eventually I surpassed him and any further attempts to train were met with Sans being… well, _Sans_.” His brow furrowed, tone growing distant and the most bitter any of them had heard from the skeleton.

“Well, apparently he was practicing _somewhere_ ,” Undyne grumbled as she sunk back into the cushions again. “Can’t believe he’s been holding out on us this whole time. I would’ve liked to, y’know, have been _told_ instead of seeing him shove it in the kid’s face!” Her fingers tensed against Alphys’ arm, anger clearly coming back in a rush. “I can’t believe that asshole!”

Papyrus huffed. “It wasn’t his fault, Undyne, he hasn’t been sleeping well!”

“What, because he didn’t get eighteen hours!?” Undyne snapped. “That’s not an excuse, Paps, you know that!”

Alphys winced, reaching up to pat Undyne’s grip until it loosened. “I-I’m sure there’s a perfectly valid reason.”

“Sorry Al, but there’s no such thing as a perfectly valid reason for pointing lasers at a friend! He could have killed them!”

Toriel shook her head. “Undyne, as I said before, Sans would never truly harm Frisk. He has always been—“

“No,” Undyne cut her off, expression growing grim. “Sorry your Majesty, but you didn’t see his eyes. You haven’t been there. When you’re in a fight, a _real_ fight, when you’re cornered and it’s you or them… hell, that’s the face of somebody who’s been there before. He would’ve done it. He would have killed them.”

There was a heavy silence at this proclamation.

“It’s my fault.” Frisk’s rarely used voice was a soft, broken thing.

The reaction was immediate. Toriel immediately descended upon the child with soothing words, only just missing Papyrus scooping them up into a hug. Undyne and Alphys were on their feet and taking their own tentative steps toward the child, their soothing words joining the other two in a wave of affection.

“My child, you mustn’t blame yourself!”

“YOU ARE A GOOD FRIEND FRISK, MY BROTHER KNOWS THAT!”

“N-no, it wasn’t you, trust me!” Alphys exclaimed, waving her claws. “All you did was break a few eggs, I’m sure he was just…. stressed?”

“Don’t you _dare_ beat yourself up kid, that’s my job!” Undyne declared, reaching out to ruffle Frisk’s hair. “C’mon, it’s not like you asked Sans to point a laser at your face!”

The child winced and flashed a weak smile as Papyrus clung to them and Toriel nuzzled her face against their cheek. That wasn’t true of course, and the memories said otherwise, but that wasn’t exactly an easy thing to explain. They let out a shaky sigh and patted Papyrus’ arm, then signed out a quick ’ _Okay, you are all right. Thank you._ ’

Toriel nodded as she pulled back slightly, helping Papyrus set the child down and dusting away a bit of flour he’d left on their shirt. “Undyne has a point child, this is hardly something you asked for. It does, however, does lead us to wonder— just what was it that sent Sans into such a panic?”

“I sure as hell doubt it was the eggs,” Undyne grumbled, folding her arms again.

“Y-you said he hasn’t been sleeping well, Papyrus?” Alphys prompted as she leaned against her girlfriend for support.

Papyrus flashed an awkward smile as he scratched the back of his head. “I feel somewhat bad for saying it, but yes. Recently I have been catching my brother up at odd hours, even for him. He has either been up until five AM or sleeping well through the day— and ah…” His smile dipped into a frown as he rubbed at his arm. “…I should not be discussing his health when he’s not here like this, it’s rude.”

“B-but it’s important, Papyrus!” Alphys exclaimed. “If he’s not feeling well…” She trailed off for a moment, biting her lip. “Is he having the nightmares again?”

“Wait, you know about them!?” The skeleton gasped, sounding shocked.

“K-kind of!?” Alphys yelped, visibly shrinking as all eyes turned to her. “I-I mean, it’s not like he told me about them specifically, he just asked if I had anything to help and I have some meds left over from—“

“You have been giving him _medication_!?” Toriel exclaimed.

“I-I’m a doctor!” The lizard monster squeaked, then winced, her shuddering spreading from her voice to her whole body as she continued to ramble. “I mean not necessarily in the medical sense but I do know— it was just some sleeping pills, nothing serious! T-they helped me after everything in the lab, I couldn’t always sleep so sometimes— it’s not an every night kind of thing, so—“

“Shh, shhh, you’re okay Alphys, shhh,” Undyne’s voice came out in a surprisingly gentle murmur as she looped her arms around her girlfriend’s shoulders, propped her chin on Alphys’ scaled head.

“She is right dear, no one is blaming you, we are simply worried,” Toriel agreed gently. “How long has he been taking the pills?”

“O-on and off,” Alphys mumbled into Undyne’s arms. “But he hasn’t asked me for any in a while, so I thought maybe… maybe he was doing better?”

Undyne gave a sigh. “Apparently not. So what, it’s just dreams, right? That just means we gotta figure out what’s scaring him and help him conquer his fear, obviously! Papyrus, do you have any idea what’s in the dreams?”

The skeleton frowned, reaching up to rub at his chin. “Not really. The most he has ever told me is something with a corridor and silverware? I suspect tomfoolery— my brother has never been one for sharing. I am certain there’s more, if we could simply get him to speak with us about it…”

Frisk swallowed, but said nothing. There was more, of course, but that was a conversation for someone else, someone who clearly desperately needed it. They reached up and tugged at Papyrus’ arm, then signed a question.

‘ _Where did Sans go_?’

Papyrus blinked, then let out a gasp. “Why, you’re right, Frisk! My brother should be back from the store by now, but he’s not!”

“That’s cause he’s not coming back, Paps. But hey, there’s my little go-getter, straight to the point!” Undyne grinned, extending one hand from Alphys’ cocoon to lightly bat the child on the shoulder. “Why’re we all just standin’ around talking about dumb lazybones? We gotta go get him back!”

Frisk nodded enthusiastically, clapping their hands together with a determined frown.

Alphys winced. “I’m not so sure this is a good idea—“

“INDEED!” Papyrus was back in full enthusiasm mode. “IF MY BROTHER IS IN DISTRESS, WE MUST FIND HIM! IF HE’S NOT AT THE STORE THEN HE MUST BE AT—“

“No,” Toriel’s voice was firm as she crossed her arms.“If Sans left, then he needs his space. We must give it to him.” Her expression softened somewhat as she turned to Frisk. “Yes my child, that means you. I know you want to go after your friend but sometimes you need to give people time. Besides, it is a bit late for children to be out, hm?”

Frisk flashed a guilty smile at this, rubbing their head.

“Are you _crazy_!?” Undyne exclaimed. “I mean that totally one hundred perfect respectfully, Tori, but you saw how he was. Our friend needs our help, we can’t just stand around!”

“And we will not be, because we will be focusing on _dinner_ ,” Toriel said firmly. “It is nearly eight o’ clock and it is unhealthy to be eating so late. However, we’re running out of time. Alphys, dear, you mentioned something about pizza?”

Alphys jumped, then tugged her phone from her pocket. “U-uh right, I think I still have the app open…”

Bright yellow eyes met beady skeletal ones for a moment and Undyne reached down to pat Alphys’ arm. “Hey, hey, it’s all right Alphys, I’m sure you don’t feel like makin’ a phone call.”

“W-well no, but you can order online now…” Alphys mumbled.

“Nah, don’t worry about that! Besides, I think after all of this we could use a bit of familiarity, huh?” Undyne beamed as she carefully untangled herself from her girlfriend, then gently pushed her toward the couch. “You just relax, I’ll go ahead and pick something up.”

“WHAT A GRAND IDEA UNDYNE! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS WILL ACCOMPANY YOU!” The skeleton declared, posing dramatically before both he and the fish monster rushed for the door.

Toriel’s eyes narrowed. “Undyne, I know what you are planning. We need dinner, not for you two to go looking for Sans.”

Papyrus skidded to a stop. “T-THAT… IS DEFINITELY NOT WHAT WE WERE PLANNING! WE WOULD NEVER DO THAT!”

“He’s right Toriel, we wouldn’t dream of it!” Undyne’s loud, uproarious laugh was much more convincing as she grabbed Papyrus’ arm and pulled him out the door. “Relax, I know everybody just really wants some nice grease, right? We’re just goin’ to Grillby’s, we’ll run there to make up for the calories and be back before you know it! Later!”

The sound of the door slamming behind them echoed through the house. Frisk frowned, then tapped Toriel’s arms and motioned with their hands.

’ _She lied to your face_.’

“Yes, I know, my child,” Toriel groaned.

—

“Hit me again, Grillbz.”

It was a testament to his acting capabilities that Sans did not flinch when Grillby gave him a look. He merely chuckled, holding up his hands in a gesture of peace. “Hey, relax, I’m fine. You could even say I’m _absinthe_ -lutely fine!” He winked as the fire elemental’s shoulders slumped, his equivalent of a sigh.

Sans watched as another drink was prepared, drumming absently on the rim of the tomato-misted glass in his hand. While he vastly preferred ketchup, it didn’t exactly mix well with alcohol, and that was his goal right now. He was accumulating a small drink graveyard, something he hadn’t done in awhile, though it was still a familiar enough habit whether here or beneath Mount Ebbott. His hands had almost stopped shaking when another chilled glass was pressed into them. “Aw, is that a Red Death? You know just how I like ‘em, G!” Sans crowed as he took it, only to have Grillby fix him with another look. “Aw, c’mon, it’s not like I’ll be dealing with a hangove!”

Grillby raised an eyebrow at that, but Drunk Bunny was calling another drink and that meant Sans was free from that searching gaze for a moment.

The skeleton sipped absently at the mixture of tomato juice and worcestershire sauce, felt it swirl inside his jaw as he glanced around the bar. Human and monster alike mingled under the warm lights, a pleasant drunk him of conversation floating over the crackling jukebox. Sans was glad to see Grillby had managed to maintain his business above ground and had even found himself some new clientele, since the skeleton had no idea what he would do without the comfort of cheap food and good booze. His arrival had been met with the usual cacophony of cheers and drunken hums, though fortunately Sans had been able to corral his adoring public to their seats before making his way to his usual stool.

He wasn’t in the mood to be the life of the party tonight.

He sucked down the rest of the drink and slammed the glass down with a laugh, feeling the burn of horseradish in his nostril sockets. He just wasn’t drunk enough yet, that was all. “Hey, let’s try a shot this time Grillby!” He called out as he waved his now empty glass. “How about some Snake’s Blood? Maybe a Rooster Tail?”

Grillby was there again in a puff of flame, fixing him with the hardest look Sans had seen in awhile. The skeleton felt his smile twist into something guilty in spite of himself. “C’mon, don’t be like that. Besides, I know how you are with tequila. I’ll pay for one for you too, as long as you grab the good stuff.”

They stared at each for a long moment and Sans could feel himself starting to sweat. Finally the fire elemental grabbed two shot glasses, though he maintained eye contact as he spoke.

“Talk.”

A sigh escaped Sans’ mouth. “No running anything past you, huh Grillbz? Fair enough.” He drummed his fingers absently against the empty glass, gradually speeding it up into some semblance of a tune. “What if I told you that this world isn’t the only one— say there’s a bunch just like this one, but things are kinda different? Like instead of making a Snake’s Blood you’re making me another Bloody Mary, or I tripped on the way in and ended up sitting with Drunken Bunny and Ugly instead? Small differences, but still differences. And then there’s bigger stuff, right? Worlds where we never make it out of the Underground, worlds where we—“

He stopped abruptly. In his agitation he recognized the beat on his fingers, the familiar music echoing in a magic-charged hallway. His hands shook as he set them on the table, spreading his fingers out as he struggled to still them.

Grillby slid a shot glass in front of him. Sans downed it immediately, grimacing at the burn that chased its way down his nonexistent throat. He gave a harsh, humorless laugh as he slammed the shotglass down on the bar top. “Well, whatever! It doesn’t matter, right? None of this does really, you’re not even gonna remember this conversation!” He caught Grillby’s baffled look and chuckled, waving a hand dismissively. “Relax, relax, I’ll still pay even if you don’t remember. It’d be pretty shitty of me to get to appreciate your top shelf stuff without paying you back. Drink up, I’m serious about that hangover never—“

The front door slammed open, hitting the wall so hard that every patron in the bar looked up. “I _KNEW_ HE’D BE HERE!” Udyne’s voice rang through the bar over the sound of crumbling drywall, she’d left a hole for sure.

“OH, THANK GOODNESS WE’VE FOUND YOU, SANS!” Papyrus cried.

Sans cringed as he felt his insides flipflop. Then again, maybe that was just all the drinks. “Sorry Grillbz, you can have the next one on me,” He muttered as he snatched the second shot from the fire elemental’s hands and downed it. After swallowed he slammed the glass down and shook his head, taking the moment to plaster his smile back on before turning to face his audience. “Bro! Undyne! The _exact_ two people I’d never expect to willingly set foot in this grand establishment, what a surprise!”

Undyne stomped through a sea of gaping customers, Papyrus following with a yelp. “UNDYNE! UNDYNE WAIT, YOU SAID WE WOULDN’T—“

The skeleton’s words did nothing as strong hands grabbed the front of Sans shirt and very nearly jerked him off the stool. “This doesn’t look like the grocery store to me, _buddy_ ,” The fish woman scowled.

Sans’ eyes widened in mock surprise and he glanced around. “It doesn’t? Aw geez, my bad, I can’t believe I got those mixed up again!” He slapped a hand to the top of his skull, then snickered. “Sorry, you know how it is, got next to nothing in this old skull of mine.”

Undyne’s face crinkled as his breath hit her face and she shoved him back onto the stool. “Ugh, how many have you _had_ , dude? You’ve been gone for an hour!” She gestured to the empty glasses, lips pulled back in an expression of disgust.

Papyrus winced as he took in the sight himself. “Sans, that is _a lot_ of alcohol….” He mumbled in an uncharacteristically subdued tone, fidgeting with his long fingers.

“Is it? I hadn’t noticed.” Sans laughed again even as his insides twisted once more. He hadn’t meant for the words to come out so harsh, but he was finding it hard as he smoothed yesterday’s shirt from where Undyne had grabbed it. “It’s not like I have a liver to wreck or anything.”

The fish monster opened her mouth to yell again before her eyes flicked over to Papyrus. Then she looked around, fixing a glare at bar patrons who hurriedly made a point of pretending not to listen. Udyne then let out a long breath before glancing to the bartender, who was visibly sparking as he took in the chaos. “Sorry you had to deal with this Grillby, could you get some burgers to go for us? A whole family order, just like old times.”

Grillby stared at her for another moment and she huffed. “I’m not gonna kill him, he’s my friend, okay!? Just give us some space!” Her words seemed the satisfy the fire elemental. She watched him disappear into the kitchen before sliding onto the stool to Sans’ left. “You have exactly ten seconds to explain what the fuck is going on, punk.”

“W-wait!” Papyrus held up his hands in a gesture of peace, hopping onto the righthand stool. “What Undyne _means_ is we would… like it if you could explain yourself at your own pace, Sans. You haven’t drank this much since the Underground, this isn’t… like you…” He swallowed, looking away.

“Well you know _that_ isn’t true,” Sans drawled as he leaned back against the bar, lounging as if the place were his own living room. “I appreciate you lyin’ to make me look better, bro, but it’s fine. We both know I’m barely on the wagon most days.”

“THAT ISN’T TRUE!” Papyrus gasped. “You just can be a bit… _indulgent_ … sometimes, a-and it’s not good for you, and I’ve told you it isn’t, and you—“

“Paps, relax.” Undyne held up a hand to stop him. She then fixed a glare at Sans. “We both know this is shitty, come on man. Look, I don’t know what’s going on or why the hell you decided to point a _giant snake laser_ at the kid, but—“ She stopped for a moment and took another deep breath, visibly steeling herself against the rage that had been creeping into her tone. “Paps said you haven’t been sleeping. I don’t know exactly what’s up, but we can help with whatever it is. I’ve never met a problem that couldn’t be solved with some sweat and effort. You just need some exercise or something, just gotta get out more and get out of whatever’s going on in that thick skull of yours!”

Her heavy arm thumped over Sans shoulders, a physical expression of the weight of her suggestions dragging him down. Sans gaped at her incredulously, at a loss for words.

“E-exercise does help with sleeping!” Papyrus put in helpfully, clearly taking his brother’s silence as a good sign. He looped an arm around his brother’s shoulders as well. “I’ve been telling you, all you need is a schedule! I may not understand what’s going on, but it’s going to be okay! So let’s just get you home and you can apologize to Frisk and tell everybody what happened and everything will be just dandy!”

Sans laughed.

It started as a small, quiet thing, a chuckle that rumbled in his ribs. Then it grew as he threw his skull back, becoming louder and louder over the crackling accompaniment of the jukebox. Soon enough it was a full booming laugh that sent the full bar into an awkward, fidgeting silence, the only sounds coming from the skeleton’s hiccuping laugh.

“Sans…” Papyrus said slowly, pulling away from his brother. Undyne did the same, both looking from the cackling skeleton to each other.

“A schedule? That’s all it takes right, a fucking schedule!?” Sans exclaimed, scrubbing at the tears prickling the corners of his eye sockets. “That’s right, just gotta exercise and eat right and this’ll all be just fine and dandy, where have I heard that one before? Oh wait, that’s right, I heard it from _you_!”

His brother frowned. “Sans, I am only concerned for your health…”

“You always are!” Sans laughed, this time throwing his own arm over his brother’s shoulder. “And don’t get me wrong buddy, pal, ol’ bro of mine I get it, I do. Poor big bro Sans can’t do a thing on his own, right? Can’t get up until you pound on his door at three in the afternoon, can’t feed his own goddamn pet, can’t remember he promised the kid to help with their science project, can’t do shit without the Great Papyrus helping his every move! Can’t even get a job without your bestie giving him a leg up!”

Undyne gaped at him. “Hey, I hired you as—“

She was cut off with another laugh, Sans smacking her lightly on the arm with his free hand. “Hang on, hang on, at least acknowledge the short joke, I got it in on such _short_ notice!” He chuckled again, his face more of an agonized grimace than a grin. “Don’t you get it? It’s all completely pointless! I could exercise every day and it wouldn’t matter, I could get five different jobs and it wouldn’t matter, none of this matters!”

“That’s not true!” Papyrus exclaimed. “Sans, any movement forward is good and you do not have to do it all at once, we can start small!”

“That’s what you said last time!” Sans laughed. “We’ve had this exact conversation a million times, Undyne was even _there_ for a few of them!”

The expression he got from Undyne was utter confusion. “The hell are you talking about man? I’ve always kept out of your crap…”

Sans slapped a hand to his forehead again in some mock expression of drama. “Right, sorry, forgot, different timeline. We made plans and a schedule and everything and let me tell you, starting exercising when you haven’t in years is a bitch, but it’s way worse when you lose all your progress, and I tried telling you that but that didn’t matter either, did it?” He let out a sigh, letting his arms drop as he grinned out at the crowd. “Well, whatever. The kid messed up, so this whole conversation is moot anyway. Everything should be resetting riiiiiight about…. now?”

Silence. The entire bar was staring at him. Undyne and Papyrus were looking at him like he’d grown a second head. Sweat trickled down his forehead. “Weird, my timing is usually better than this. Oh well, I’m sure I’ll get plenty of practice.”

Go figure the kid wouldn’t reset. He could really stand to get out of this conversation right now.

“Shut up.” Undyne’s hand fell on his shoulder again and Sans flinched. “Look, Sans. I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about and I don’t _wanna_ know, clearly you’ve got a screw loose or something. But whatever is going on, your friends are here to help, okay?”

“She’s right Sans, _please_ ,” His brother pleaded, taking hold of his other shoulder and looking him dead in the eyes. “I do not know what is wrong and I do not think I fully understand, but… I know these things are hard for you. I know they are, but… if you could just _try_ ….”

There was that word again. Sans twitched. “You don’t get it.”

Undyne’s fingers clenched on his jacket. “Sans, I—“

“Nope. That’s it. I’m done.” Sans shook his head before dropping off the stool, sliding out from Undyne and Papyrus’ arms like it was nothing. His sneakered feet hit the floor with a slight stumble and he grunted. Finding a shortcut while he was this wasted was probably not the best idea, but he couldn’t stay in this conversation either. “I’m out. Tell Grillby to put everything on my tab, will you?”

Papyrus leaped off his own stool, reaching out for him. “Sans, wait—“

“Don’t look for me. Later.”

And then in a burst of blue he was gone again.


	3. insomniac olympics

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this only took a week this time, so that's exciting. Also there's a bit of humor here before we dive into some heavy angst at the end. I'm experimenting a bit with my format for a section here, I do hope you will all let me know if it works! I'm happy to see people are enjoying this, your comments, feedback kudos fill me with joy and get me through the day.
> 
> If you have any thoughts or anything you particularly liked, please let me know! Like I said, feedback is my lifeblood, haha.
> 
> The chapter title is from the song Insomniac Olympics by Blockhead, which is an entirely instrumental track and I cannot recommend it enough.

The summer night air was a shock after the chill of Grillby’s air conditioning. It was certainly cooler than when the sun had been up, but the humidity still clung to Sans’ bones, stuck to his ribs with every shaking, unnecessary breath. His footsteps were a confused jumble as he stepped out onto the sidewalk, a bony palm reaching out to slam against the brick wall of a nearby building as he struggled to steady himself. His nonexistent stomach heaved, he fought against the reflex.

Right, this was why he didn’t usually take drunken shortcuts.

“Haaa… this is truly heavin’ on Earth,” He laughed to himself, then groaned again.The memories caught in his throat along with the bile, brought back bursts of his own wheezing breath as his brother and Undyne urged him through exercise routines, coached him through day five of eating better. Sans let out another bitter laugh mixed with the remembered flavor of tomato juice. All the running in the world was never enough for him to make it through that fateful snowstorm in time, it just gave him more breath to lose when he caught sight of a scarf coated in dust once again.

So yeah, he wouldn’t be having that conversation yet again, thanks. Unfortunately, it seemed Undyne and Papyrus were determined to have it, so his initial plan of waiting it out in Grillby’s was out. Home was also not an option, because of course his brother knew the only place he loved more than the bar was bed. That oncoming train of caps lock and positivity would be chugging along for a while, or at least until the timeline reset.

Assuming there was a reset. There was a sinking feeling in his gut that was telling him otherwise, but Sans decided to pin that on the alcohol. He let out a long breath as he righted himself, taking in the rush of traffic and the haze of summer night. Well, whatever. If there was one thing Sans was good at, it was avoiding conversations he didn’t want to have.

The city never slept and he didn’t have to either.

His eyes flicked to the street signs, quickly making a mental map of where he was. For how twisted his insides were feeling, he’d only made it two blocks from Grillby’s. Shit, he’d meant to go farther, that meant any second now—

“SANS!”

He flinched at the sound of his brother’s voice. How many hints did he have to drop!? Well, whatever, this was an easy fix, he just had to find another shortcut. The sounds of feet hitting the pavement were alarm bells in his skull as he glanced about, eyes finally falling upon a passing bus.

Perfect.

“HEY, DON’T YOU DARE—“

“SANS, PLEASE STOP, WE JUST WANT TO—“

If the first jump was bad, the second was worse. His feet hit the metal walkway of the bus with a clang, his entire body struck with a wave of vertigo thanks to the sudden momentum change. The skeleton crashed gracelessly to the floor with a yelp, then simply laid there, groaning. The battered ceiling above him spun, metal bleeding together with the blinding neon of various ads. He waited for the metal blur to separate itself from the stock photo of some sad white lady with artfully messy hair and makeup,

“‘ _Depession hurts everybody_ ,’” Sans read aloud, typo and all. He gave a loud snort, his hand flying up to cover his mouth. This did nothing to quiet the giggles bubbling up from his chest, so when the full on laughter came he opted to let the hand drop. He laid there for a full minute on the bus floor, legs and arms splayed out over top his open hoodie, laughing so hard tears were pricking at his eyesockets. He gulped down gasps of air only to spit them back out again in peals of laughter, shoulders shaking even as the ceiling continued to spin.

Depession. What the actual hell.

He finally pushed himself to his elbows with a final snort and glanced around, taking in a woefully empty bus. Seriously, how was nobody here to recognize just how terrible this ad was? Life was full of disappointments. The skeleton shook his head and finally stood, brushing himself off, then stumbled his way to the front of the bus.

“Hey, do you ever take a look at the ads on these things? Cause let me tell you, autocorrect may get a bad rap, but at least—“

“Tra la la! Why don’t you sing with me?”

Sans blinked. The River Person might’ve blinked back, but it was always really hard to tell. Apparently wearing a hooded robe under a bus driver’s uniform wasn’t against regulation, who knew?

“Weren’t you a taxi driver yesterday?” Sans asked as he dug around in his shorts for his wallet.

“Tra la la! What’s my name? It doesn’t really matter…”

“Fair enough,” Sans shrugged as he opened his wallet. “Hey, why couldn’t the skeleton afford his bus fare? ‘Cause he was _skint_.”

Silence save for the roar of the bus engine. Sans dropped his change into the receptacle and turned for the back of the bus again.

“Tra la la! Somebody is looking for you, you know!”

“That’s nice,” Sans grunted as he flopped into the backseat, propping sneakered feet on top of the seat in front of him. He glanced up at the screen displaying the bus number and time, making a mental note of the route. It was ten o’ clock, so he had a good two hours to ride and sober up before the bus lines closed and he figured out where to go next.

His phone vibrated in his pocket. He ignored it.

Sans wasn’t sure how long he stayed on the bus, simply watching the city pass by. The bars and hotel lights passed by in a haze of neon. The bus lurched around street corners and over bridges, swayed with slight bumps in the asphalt. Sans’ insides swirled, unaccustomed to the bump and sway of city waves against this new sort of boat. Pedestrians scuttled between buildings in bubbles of laughter and conversation, pinpricks of nightlife in a sea of humid air and streetlights. The atmosphere of the bus became a mirror of his skull, windows dripping and misting in the humidity, a cloudy mess of refracted dust and light.

His phone vibrated. He ignored it.

After some time his stomach had settled into a low grumble, a recognition that in his eagerness for alcohol he’d skipped out on his traditional Grillby’s meal of grease and ketchup. He finally reached up to lazily tug at the little wire strung along the windows, a high pitched beep signifying his desire to exit.

“Tra la la. Uh oh. Suddenly feeling tropical…”

“You said it buddy. Later,” Sans drawled as he dropped off the last step and out onto the sidewalk, landing a bit easier than his previous attempts.

Convenience store food wasn’t so bad when you were hungry, or at least that’s what he told himself as he chowed down on the world’s most mediocre ham and cheese sandwich. Ketchup made anything taste good, after all. He took another bite, then drowned it in tangy goodness until it was so soggy he didn’t have to worry about chewing.

He finally glanced down at his phone, fingers ghosting absently against the touch screen Alphys had modified specifically so it would work with his bones. Thirty missed calls from just about everybody. Mostly Papyrus and Undyne, though there were one or two from Toriel and Alphys as well. Alphys made up for it with dozens of texts of course, a stream of conscious that ranged from awkward concern to straight up panic. Sans skimmed them, grimacing as he watched them devolve. The last thing he wanted was a rambling conversation about her insecurities, not after all the ones he sat through from her lost days on the throne.

He grimaced. Welp, that was an ugly thought. He drowned it in more ketchup. Good reason to not go home if he was still thinking crap like that, no sense in subjecting everybody else to his asshole stream of consciousness.

The phone buzzed again, this time he opened the latest message from Frisk. His hand holding the phone shook.

_‘You okay?’_

Sans almost chucked the phone on the spot, but his tightened grip on reflex saved what had undoubtedly been a very expensive Christmas present. He took a deep breath, glaring down at the message. How dare it be so normal? How dare they act like everything was fine, that was his thing, how dare they act so normal when they could just reset this at any—

Another buzz. ‘ _You should come home. Everybody’s worried about you_.’

Buzz. _‘I’m sorry.’_

He clenched his teeth around the ketchup bottle nozzle, let it dangle from his mouth as he glared down at his phone. Right. Okay. This was fine, he could do damage control from here for a little while.

‘ _its ok. headed home now. by tomorrow it’ll seem like this never even happened_ ’. Was that subtle enough? Probably, but not nearly casual enough. He needed a pun. The skeleton frowned as he dug through his brown bag of goodies, then snorted as he pulled out the ninety-nine cent package of mini chocolate donuts he’d picked up.

‘ _donut worry, by tomorrow it’ll seem like this never even happened._ ’ He quickly tacked on a nice little donut emoji for added effect before hitting send. Perfect lie. It was a shame he’d likely be found out pretty quickly. After a few seconds of consideration he typed out another text.

‘’ _what did the mama cow say to the baby cow? it’s pasture bedtime. get moving or ill tell your mom, kiddo._ ’

Ugh, he was an idiot. His skull was a confusing mixture of dust, flashing knives and childish laughter and all he could focus on was how stubborn Frisk got without their beauty rest. He let out a sigh, glancing at the clock a final time as he went to shut the phone off.

Eleven thirty. It was gonna be a long night.

—

**11:45 PM**

Sans has determined that Rocky’s Lounge is not nearly the same caliber as Grillby’s. The drinks are dirt cheap, however, and they do have a popcorn machine, so he supposes that’s a point in their favor. Artificial butter has never tasted so good but he wishes Katy Perry would stop assuming she knows how he feels.

**12:00 AM**

Midnight. A bachelorette party is cheering like it’s New Years Eve. Sans absently wonders what year this counts as if time is a flat circle. Brittany, or at least he thinks that’s her name, throws her arms around him and gushes that she loves True Detective. Also she’s never met a monster before and she’s always wanted to bone one.

The pun is shitty enough that even though Sans isn’t interested, he rolls with it.

**12:34 AM**

Sans has learned more about human women in the past hour than he ever thought he’d care to. Brittany is a science major of some sort and she keeps dropping pick-up lines about chemical reactions. He’s impressed, but also baffled by the amount of jewelry shaped like human genitalia. He doesn’t get the appeal. She explains something about the bride faking being straight for years and how this was a final stand of some sort or another before she married her childhood sweetheart. Sans guesses he can sort of see the irony, but also he’s missing a pretty vital part of the equation.

She decides they’re besties and not boning material, which is a relief even if it is lacking in the pun department.

**12:35 AM**

Brittany just told him this great joke about oxygen and potassium. Sans almost texts it to Alphys before remembering that turning his phone back on would defeat the purpose of this retreat.

He orders a round of shots and more popcorn.

**1:12 AM**

Sarah has bought him enough drinks that Sans has decided she can be his new best friend along with Brittany. He considers revoking this status when he learns she’s the one who set up this stupid Katy Perry song to play for the next several hours, but she buys him another Bloody Mary.

Cindy has started giving him fashion tips for his body shape. She finds his big-boned joke hilarious. Maybe Cindy is his new best friend.

The popcorn’s starting to get old now. He crunches another mouthful.

**1:23 AM**

“ _Do you ever feeeeeeel like a plastic baaaaaag_!?” Sans winces as Mandy howls the opening lyric into his left eye socket for the twentieth time. He wonders if anyone ever actually feels like a plastic bag.

**1:30 AM**

The girls have started giving him life advice. Sans thinks rather absently that they’re totally right and if this ‘friend’ of his is jerking him around so much, they’re totally toxic and he should cut them out of his life. He has not, however, mentioned the fact that his world is an endless loop and his ‘abusers’ were an eight-year old and possessed plant life respectively. Mandy asks if he’s tried communicating and the other girls effectively shut her down.

He tries ketchup on the popcorn since Undyne isn’t here to stop him. He and the girls aren’t quite drunk enough to decide if this is delicious or not, so they order another round of tequila.

**1:45 AM**

He finally tells the girls about the resets. They have started calling him Bill Murray. Sans thinks rather absently that if he were ever the sort to actually discuss his problems, watching Groundhog Day would probably be a great way to introduce Papyrus to the idea. Although that movie was also sure to make Papyrus cry, so maybe it wasn’t such a good idea.

**1:50 AM**

Sarah has decided he’s gonna be in the wedding. Hell, he’ll do the ceremony. A skeleton officiating a gay wedding is the best present to her fundamentalist parents that Sarah can think of and Sans can’t say he understands but he’s all for it. Maybe he can practice for Undyne and Alphys’ wedding since he doubts he’s close enough with them to be in the bridal party otherwise. There had been a time where maybe Alphys would have wanted him on her side but that was several labs and promises ago, back before he’d ditched her along with his career and—

His hands shake as he shoves his phone back in his pocket.

**1:55 AM**

Fuck Frisk. Fuck Undyne. Fuck Alyphys. Fuck Papyrus, fuck ‘em all. The bachelorettes are his new best friends.

**2:10 AM**

Sans does what he does to all his best friends and ditches the girls the second he’s sure their Uber is here.

**2:12 AM**

Welp. Everything’s closed. Now what?

He can feel popcorn kernels stuck in his teeth. Papyrus is always getting after him for flossing and now he gets why.

**2:45 AM**

The final bar signs have quieted. Sans watches as employees drag leaking garbage bags to dumpsters, hears grumbled complaints about tips and rent. Cigarette smoke lingers in the air, echoes of vices used as handholds to get the service industry through the day. Something like jealousy stirs in his ribs but Sans pushes it aside. Smoking is curious and he has no lungs to ruin, but he feels pretty sure Papyrus wouldn’t approve. He knows why he drinks, but humanity’s various vices only seem to push them closer to the grave and he wishes he didn’t understand.

A waitress asks him for a light and he can appreciate that she’s not questioning some skeleton skulking about in the dark at odd hours. He snaps his fingers together with a crackle of blue and reaches up to light the cancer stick clutched in her lips. She asks what’s wrong with him.

“Nothin’,” He lies before asking her the same.

“Nothing,” She lies.

She bids him good night and goes on her way.

**3:00 AM**

So it turns out the city does in fact sleep, which is unfortunate. Sans wanders the streets in a drunken haze, hands in his pockets. He passes under flashing yellow streetlights and whirring air conditioners, can feel droplets of humid dew forming in his chest and on exposed brick walls and metal walkways. The alleyways breathe with the occasional passing car, their tires and exhaust humming in the air. The buildings tower above him as he wanders with the other handfuls of late night ghosts. There is the low moan of a saxophone somewhere in the distance.

Sans laughs, because of course there’s a fucking saxophone. The alleyways don’t seem to think it’s funny.

**3:15 AM**

Sans takes a shortcut to the top of a fire escape. He feels the summer night air whistle through his bones, feels it tug at his hood and the edges of his jacket as they billow. It seems suitably dramatic as he gazes down at the city valleys of the dead. He wonders if he were to drop here would he wake up here in his apartment or back in Snowdin? The saxophone continues to ramble about lonely detectives and sultry dames, he rolls his eyes. It’s a little hard to muse on how quickly this drop could kill him with that kind of background music, though he supposes it’d be suitably dramatic.

His nonexistent stomach growls. He takes the long way down rusted stairs, one rattling step at a time.

**3:30 AM**

Sans buys a pack of bubble gum, a lukewarm hot dog, and three bottles of ketchup from the convenience store. Katy Perry is playing on the overhead speakers and Sans wonders if she’s even actually popular or he’s been switched to some kind of dimension where she is the only singer, past, present and future. The guy at the counter claims to recognize him from earlier. “What, so you’re saying all skeletons look alike to you? Wow, that’s kinda racist, Matt. It’s cause I’m white, isn’t it?” Counter boy does not find this as funny as Sans does.

Sans spills ketchup on his jacket on the way out the door.

**4:11 AM**

Twenty-four hour laundromats are possibly their own pocket dimension, Sans concludes. If time felt meaningless before, it seems especially meaningless now. Several of the florescent lights are broken, and the flickering soldiers that remain seem to be a proper hangout spot for every moth in the city. The cheap detergent he bought after sticking a few quarters into a dispenser doesn’t smell right at all, nothing at all like whatever Toriel uses. It’s at odds with the memory of clean linen dangling from the clothesline outside, and Sans grimaces as he watches his jacket tumble its way through one of the dryers.

He mumbles that stupid Katy Perry song under his breath as he pops his twentieth stick of gum into his mouth. Papyrus would probably like it.

**4:15 AM**

Sans chews through an entire pack of gum in a span of thirty minutes. It doesn’t mix well with the ketchup at all. His jacket is dry.

**5:00 AM**

Sans stumbles his way to a park bench and finally collapses on it. The dew of early morning soaks into the back of his shorts, but he ignores it as he continues to nurse his ketchup bottle, staring blankly at the last of the stars. The sun would be up soon, so he’s pretty sure that means he wins. In fact, maybe he’ll just sit here and watch it, it’s been awhile since he properly appreciated the sunrise and he should, right? Greet a new day full of new possibilities up here under the sky, get his life together. Yeah. It would be great. Maybe once Frisk finally reset he’d do that with whatever day he ended up on. Fresh new start. Maybe he was looking at this shit all wrong, Papyrus and Undyne were right, just had to go out there and make the best of it. As long as he stayed awake to witness it, he’d be okay.

He falls asleep with the empty ketchup bottle clenched in his teeth.

—

It was snowing again. White drifted from the ceiling of the underground in lazy circles, cradled by a stale breeze before coming to rest on long sleeping tree branches and hilltops.

The child’s face was one of wonder as they poked their head out from the door, a puff of hot breath exhaling from their smile. A small body shivered, though from their expression it was not an unpleasant feeling. Small hands tucked into the long sleeves of their shirt to guard fingers from the cold, abandoning their mess of brown hair to the snowflakes that had already begun to cake in it. Their boots crunched as they made their first steps into the forest, dark eyes drinking it all in, though they’d slow on occasion to glance behind them at the fading image of the door.

They never see your shot coming.

White light blasts across the snow, throwing stark shadows across the forest floor in a monster’s snarl. The hit was lighter this time with no karma to give it weight, but you keep the blasters coming. Snow boils and steams as a hail of bones join the fray, leaving wet thuds and bloody cracks in the stillness. The body drops and your hands are still moving, twisting at the lighter soul in their chest, slamming it to the thawing ground over and over. Small bones snap and twist like matchsticks and they have not breathed for some time now but you don’t care.

You finally let them drop, cast them aside like a broken toy. Your hands shake, breath coming out in hard puffs as you watch red gather in the snow. You should feel something, anything, but all you have is the memory of a dusty scarf around your neck. You reach up to adjust it but it’s gone, of course it’s gone, that was then and you’re not sure why this is sticking to you so hard when you’ve already seen your brother die so many times before. But that had been vines back then, and y’know, nature was always so unpredictable. Those tiny footprints, on the other hand, only make it to that fateful blizzard because of you.

“Sorry lady,” you spit into the silence. “This is why I don’t make promises.”

—

Sans woke with a jolt, sending the empty ketchup bottle clattering off the bench. He lay in the stillness for a moment, blinking blearily up at the final, defiant twinkling of a handful of stars. Stars. Not a cavern ceiling, not his room in Snowdin, not his apartment with Papyrus. Just the final couple of stars and the dense weight of summer air pulling him back to Earth.

He reached for his phone and tapped it on, wincing as the bright light of the screen assaulted his eyes. The jaunty start-up tune may as well have been an icepick, sending pain lancing through his skull. He squeezed his eyes shut against it, waiting. Cautiously he opened one eye, glancing at the screen.

Five forty-five AM. He hadn’t quite made it to sunrise, but maybe it still counted? Plenty of people regarded five AM as the start of their day, not the end, so that made this the start of day four hundred and forty-four on the surface.

Which meant no reset, which definitely meant he’d lost.

Sans sat up from the bench, drawing in a slow, shaky breath as he did so. The smell of ozone still burned in his nostrils, mixed with a remembered chill that clung to his bones in spite of the summer heat. He’d tried to avoid them, but the memories were here whether he liked it or not.

His phone buzzed, a multitude of text messages finally reaching their destination. Sans squinted down at them, then tapped the only one he’d gotten from Frisk.

‘ _Good night. <3_’

Sans turned around and heaved over the side of the bench.

After several minutes, his body finally rid itself of the last of cheap convenience store food, bubblegum and ketchup. The skeleton groaned as he flopped back against the bench, clutching at his head. The taste coated the backs of his teeth but it was still nothing compared to the memory of a small body dropping in the snow, shattering against the marble floor of the Judgement Hall, little eyes shut like they were sleeping but they’d be awake again soon enough, always awake, they would never be gone for good, they would never be gone so what did it—

No. Not yet. Sans shook his head and took another shaky breath, then rose to his feet. He carefully picked up the ketchup bottle with the flick of a wrist, then tossed it into a recycling bin in a flash of blue. Then in a blink, he too was gone.

Panic could wait a little longer. He had somewhere to be.

—

If he had been doing this to anyone else, Sans would have felt bad.

It was early, after all, if the graying sky of dawn was any indication. But Toriel kept what Sans liked to affectionately call Mom Hours, preferring to get up early to get some chores and a bit of reading done before she got started on making breakfast. Of course Frisk was always guaranteed a nutritious breakfast, but Toriel always made a point of making extra. This was wise given the way everyone else tended to pop in and out like it was some kind of community kitchen, something which Sans was well aware she was absolutely thrilled about.

He closed his eyes in the darkness for a moment, savoring the memory of morning chaos. Papyrus insisting spaghetti was a perfectly valid breakfast choice as Sans helped himself to a bit of fried egg with his ketchup, Alphys sleepily shoveling sugared cereal into her mouth as she grudgingly admitted to being up far later than necessary reading fanfiction. Undyne kissing Alphys on the forehead as she yelped about being late before darting out the door with toast clutched in her teeth, seeming bizarrely excited by the motion. Frisk giggling as they chomped down on an orange slice, Frisk—

Sans forced the bile in his throat back down. Right, enough of that, he was here for a reason. Better get it over with.

He knocked on the front door, then waited. He could see it in his mind’s eye, Toriel starting in her armchair before tucking a bookmark into her latest novel and setting it aside. He counted down until he was sure she would be in hearing range before he spoke.

“Knock knock?”

“Sans?” Toriel’s voice was one of confusion as she spoke through the door, though with the nearby window open it wasn’t exactly hard to hear her.

“Aw, c’mon, that’s not the right answer and you know it,” Sans chided gently as he pressed a hand against the door, leaning his forehead against it.

“Sans!” Toriel let out a gasp, he heard the deadbolt clicking open. The doorknob jingled. “Oh thank goodness you are all right, we were all so—“

“Sorry Tori, but If you open the door, I’m out,” Sans warned, eyes narrowing as he pulled back from the wood.

He saw the doorknob stop mid-turn. “What do you mean?” There was hesitation to her voice, confusion, worry. Sans took a few proper seconds to reflect on what an asshole he was to ever make her sound like that. Toriel should never sound like that.

But well, he’d already established he was an asshole.

“You didn’t answer my question. Knock knock.”

“…Who is there?” Toriel replied, cautious now.

“Walking disaster.”

“Walking disaster who?”

“Whoops!” Sans let out a dark laugh as he slapped a hand against his forehead. “Did I say walking disaster? Sorry, I meant to say it’s me. It’s Sans. That’s the joke.”

“…I do not think that is funny, Sans.”

Sans felt a bitter smile cross his face as he leaned his forehead against the door again. “Yeah. I know. Sorry, I shoulda come up with something funnier, I had a feeling you weren’t gonna like that one. I’m fresh outta material. Maybe I should have done something with hurricanes? Hurricane Sans. Pfft. Do you think that’s a font? I bet it—“

“Sans, please come inside. I know you did not come home last night. Papyrus and Undyne were out looking for you very late. Why did you turn off your phone? Alphys said she could track you through that, but then the signal disappeared and we thought—“ He heard her voice catch. “Please just come inside. You must be hungry and very tired.”

“Sorry Tori, no can do,” Sans murmured. “Trust me, it’s better this way.”

“…You are not making sense, Sans. Please, you are clearly not feeling well. Come inside, I am sure after some food and rest you will feel better. Besides, today is… you promised Frisk you would take them to the science museum, remember? If you are not feeling well we can postpone it, but I am sure they would be happy to see you.”

The skeleton let out a harsh laugh. “Yeah, sorry Tori, that’s definitely not happening. Not today and probably not ever again.”

“…Sans, I apologize, I do not understand. Did something happen between you and Frisk?”

Sans’ helpless laughter went on for a few more seconds, growing louder and louder. It rose in pitch until it sounded closer to a sob than a laugh, he pressed his palm to his mouth in a vain attempt to stifle it. “Stop laughing this instant young man, this is serious!” Toriel snapped, and there was something regal to her tone, something that pulled him back from the edge for the moment.

“Hoo boy. Sorry Tori, sorry, I’m not laughing at you, I promise.” The skeleton let out a sigh as he turned and pressed his back to the door, gazing up at the growing dawn. The crickets chirped their goodbyes amongst dew-soaked grass. The last of the stars tucked themselves into the brightening sky. The night world was laid to rest and the morning had yet to rise. For the moment it was just him and Toriel, and well, that was fitting, wasn’t it?

“Do you remember when we first met?” Sans finally asked quietly. “Back when it was just you, me and that door? Haha, I never even asked for your name, how weird is that? You must’ve thought I was such a freak.”

“And I was certain you thought I was an old homebody,” Toriel said gently. There was a shuffle, a creak, he heard something lightly pressing against the other side of the door. “But you did not. And I did not think you were a freak, just bonely.”

Sans let out something between a snort and a chuckle. “You’re so great, Tor’.” He splayed his fingers across the wood, could imagine Toriel’s wide paws pressing against his fingers through the door. “...Do you remember that time when you made me promise? That if a human ever came through that door, I was supposed to watch over ‘em?”

“...Yes. I could never forget.” He hears the way her voice grows heavy, can imagine her ears drooping.

“What if I told you that’s the only reason the kid’s alive today?” Sans breathed.

There was a moment of silence.

“That… what does it matter, Sans? Everyone has tried to kill Frisk at least once, that child seems to constantly invite mischief. Even I am not exempt. What matters now is they are alive and so are you. Everything is--”

“I didn’t keep my promise. I didn’t do what you asked.” Sans cut her off, his voice hard.

“....What are you saying?” Toriel’s voice was shaking.

“I killed them. I lost count how many times. They… you died, everyone was dead, I could say I didn’t have a choice but we both know that’s bullshit because all I ever talk about is choice, right?” Sans was rambling, he knew he was rambling, he sounded absolutely insane. Whatever, maybe he was, now that he had started he couldn’t seem to stop. "Sometimes I killed them right away, but you and Paps always found out and you were always so sad. Sometimes I tried to wait but then you two were dead and I would just be so mad. Sometimes I didn’t do anything and it didn’t matter. My promise didn’t matter, none of it did, the consequences all just reset anyway.”

“Sans, what are you talking about? Why are you saying these things? Frisk is fine, they are sleeping in their room as we speak!” She sounded upset now, he couldn’t blame her. “Does this… does this have something to do with the dreams Papyrus and Alphys mentioned? Please, you are not making sense, why don’t you come in and sit down?”

The doorknob twisted. It glowed blue and stopped with an abrupt jerk.

“You _really_ don’t wanna open the door, Tori, trust me.”

He heard her frustrated exhale, a snort that hinted slightly at her more monstorous nature. “Sans, you are being overly dramatic. I may not understand what is going on, but I know you. You are Frisk’s best friend, you would never hurt them, not now or ever.”

Sans shook his head, though of course she couldn’t see it. “Not in this timeline maybe. And I get it, to you this is all there is. To you Frisk is your kid and they love everyone and they’d never hurt a soul, and I get it. To you this is it and it should be, logically I think you’re right. All the evidence points to this being the end of it, and that’s great. I get that things are different now, but that doesn’t mean I can forget everything else. I want to, but…” He trailed off, eyes falling shut.

“Sans, please come inside,” Toriel whispered. He heard her voice crack, saw her cradling a lifeless body in the snow in a time that wasn’t. “You won’t hurt anyone. I know you won’t.”

“…Heh. Really?” Sans smiled to himself. “‘Cause I don’t.”

He pushed himself away from the door. “I’m skipping town for a few days. I know it’s gonna be hard for you, but try not t’ worry, okay? I know it may not seem like it ‘cause my bro is always nagging me, but I promise I can take care of myself.”

“…That is unfair.” Toriel’s voice had gone hard again, cold, and he supposed he deserved that. “Didn’t you just finish telling me about breaking a promise?

He grinned. “Fair point. See ya, Toriel. Take care of the kid for me, okay?” With that, he released the magic on the doorknob. In a blink he was gone, leaving nothing but an empty porch and the sunrise. Another hot summer day was coming.

Maybe he’d get lucky and it would be raining somewhere else.


	4. the movie unpeeling, unreeling, about to begin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More of a breather chapter this time, I can't do pure drama for ten straight chapters, plus it's time to get a good look at how Frisk is seeing things. Also managed to fit a bit of Papytton in there but it's totally ignorable and again not super relevant, as is the case with all my ships, haha.
> 
> Thank you so much for all the feedback last chapter, it really made my week. Just so you all know, updates may be a bit slower after this point, my secondary job as an illustrator is about to pick up again so I'm about to have less writing time. Please be sure to leave kudos and feedback if you're enjoying this, your words shall spur me onward.
> 
> Chapter title is from Be Safe by The Cribs.

Those are not your hands.

The grip is too firm around the toy knife in your hands, too practiced. Dust clings to your shirt and floats in the air, catches in your lungs as you choke on sobs. Your mom’s whitened tunic entwines in those fingers as you clutch it to your chest, your sniffles echoing through the emptiness of the ruins.

_“She was in your way.”_

You know that, but she never meant to hurt you.

_“She’s killed you before, remember?”_

Sure, but not on purpose. Never on purpose, and on the rare instance when it happened you’d see her eyes widen in horror before the world spun. You’d see tears in her eyes as the world became a flash of heat and a sickening twist in your stomach before you—

_“I was scared.”_

Yes. No matter how many times you died, it was always scary.

_“I know, I remember. I didn’t want to do it again and I know you didn’t want to either. I had to… protect us, you know? You did save me, after all. If you can be determined to do all this, the least I can do is be determined to help you.”_

You sob into purple fabric, choke on the scent of laundry detergent The dust mixes with your tears, cakes on fingers that aren’t yours. Yes, you’d been scared, but that didn’t excuse it. Nothing could ever excuse this.

_“But she’ll be fine. You can always reset it, right?”_

A whimper bubbles up from your throat. Yes, and you will, you’re going to, but you’ll still remember and you won’t be the only one.

_“What, are you worried about the Comedian? Ha. He’ll never even know about this, he’s not omnipotent even if he acts like it, no need to worry about it. Azzy will remember too… but that might not be such a bad thing, right?”_

You shake your head violently against the words that aren’t yours. The fingers loosen on Mom’s tunic, reach up to scrub at a tear streaking its way down your dusty cheek.

 _“Sheesh, you’re such a crybaby. You really are just like him— gotta be nice to everybody, gotta fix everybody’s problems. But then there’s always dirty work, and then it’s me who has to step up._ ” The fingers pat dust away from your face and clothes, shake it out of your hair. The dust is lead and you feel lighter without it, but the weight remains caked under your nails.

_“Say, I have an idea. We’ve tried it your way, why not try mine? I’ve been watching this whole time and you did good, but that never reaches Asriel. I don’t think we can reach him by just hugging it out, you know? If he wants violence, why not give him violence?”_

Your breath catches in your throat. “N-no…”

_“Oh, come on. You don’t even have to do anything!”_

You shake your head again, as if the motion alone dislodge their voice in your head. It doesn’t, of course. _“No, I don’t want to hurt them. I-I never wanted to…”_

Fingers clench around the dusty tunic again. _“I know you don’t. But we’re not getting anywhere like this. Sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind.”_

“No.” You throw the tunic aside in a jerky motion, let it flutter to the cobblestone floor. That was _never_ true and you knew it. Denying it with words, even as firmly as you can, it doesn’t seem like enough. Your voice feels weak, the word feels clumsy on your tongue. This is why you hate words, they do not match the fire in your chest.

A sigh escapes from your lips, unbidden. _“He used to say the same thing… but he learned in the end. It’s okay, I can teach you too.” Dusty knees bend, hands reaching for the toy knife you’d cast aside in shock._

You try to pull your hand back. “No, stop, I won’t—“

Teeth clamp down on your tongue, hard. Your choked yelp of pain is stifled by the prison gate of your own traitorous lips. _“You’re not the only one who’s determined to save Asriel, Frisk.”_

You fight of course. You struggle, because you always do, but the fire in your chest seems to going two ways now, it’s not concentrated anymore and you’ve never felt this before.

_“We’ve tried it your way, Frisk, and all that happens is we die and die and eventually we make it to the surface and then we come right back. And it’s been fun, but I’m tired of dying. I’m tired of you dying, do you get that? You’ve protected me all this time, shown me what determination is… it’s my turn to teach you now, okay?”_

Their hands grab the toy knife.

You want to scream, but you’ve never been particularly good at that. You want to cry but that’s no good either. And then there’s that part of you that’s curious, that bit that admits you have to change something and that’s you but not and that can’t be right because you would never—

_“Relax, it’s not like it’s a huge deal. Monsters are all pansies anyway, it’s like squishing bugs. And it’s not like they’ll be gone for long. All we have to do is reset and it’s like it never happened, right?”_

No, no, that wasn’t true. Sans would remember, Sans always remembered or at least was good at pretending he did, and he’d know what you did because he always knew even when you didn’t and he was always so proud at the end but this time there was no way because you’d killed and he’d judge you—

_“Oh, whatever, he’s too lazy to stay mad. I wouldn’t worry about him. I’m sure once we explain he’ll understand, he’s smarter than he looks. Besides…”_

They smile.

“It’s not like he can judge us for being human.”

—

The morning sunlight freed Frisk yet again.

Frisk blinked blearily as the light peeked its way through their windows and felt a jolt of gratitude. While that memory was hardly the worst, it still wasn’t one that liked reliving. At least they hadn’t woken up screaming that time, usually when that happened it was up to Toriel or in worse cases, Sans to—

The child froze, then curled deeper under their blankets. Their arms clasped around their knees (still bandaged from a unfortunate bike spill with Undyne last week) and they gave a shuddering breath.

Frisk rarely slept peacefully through the night, even before the whole underground business. There was just so much to do while awake, they didn’t want to miss anything. Plus, sleeping meant they were alone again, and that was the last thing Frisk wanted. Sitting around and doing nothing had never done them any good, which meant bedtime was always a bit of a struggle for them. Not to say they wouldn’t go to bed when Toriel told them to, but they always seemed to conveniently weasel one more story out than necessary, need just one more glass of water and so on.

They woke up on and off fairly often, so the sound of Toriel’s shocked voice before the sun had even risen was hardly a stretch. Frisk had risen quickly, reaching for the doorknob and only stopping when they caught Sans’ voice as well. They hadn’t heard the entire conversation, but they caught enough to get the gist of it.

He was gone.

A whine escaped from Frisk’s throat as they curled deeper under the covers. They’d seen Sans mad before, of course. They’d seen him mad, all dark eyes and darker words, heard the disgust in his tone and seen his grin twist into something awful because of course he’d seen the dust on their hands. They’d just barely seen him when he was madder still, just a hooded figure watching from the shadows because their hands had stolen the one person who still mattered to him. But even then they’d still face him in the end, get the talking to they so thoroughly deserved. They’d seen the worst after that, a flash of righteous judgement and blue more times than they could count and of course it was horrible but they had no right to forget it. Sans was still always there, and as much as they dreaded his disappointment he was the closest person who could understand now that _they_ were gone.

But now Sans was gone too, and not because they’d helped him. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Frisk had messed up. They’d messed up so bad. Which of course, would usually mean it was time for a reset, but that was what had gotten them in this mess in the first place. They whimpered, pulling the blankets closer and biting down on them. They hadn’t meant to cause this, they’d just wanted to make everybody happy, that was all they ever wanted.

_“Can’t make everybody happy, kiddo. Sometimes you gotta know when to quit.”_

The smell of butterscotch and cinnamon wafted in from the kitchen. It would have been a wonderful way to wake up had Frisk not already been awake. They felt the guilt swirl in their stomach.

Upon hearing the news, they’d considered getting up then and there. Toriel had sounded deeply upset, but the memory of the last time Frisk had listened in on a conversation between her and Sans kept them at bay.

_“Y’know, it’s rude to eavesdrop when the grown ups are talking.”_

Frisk bit their lip. Their skeletal conscience had finally skipped town and now all that was left was the memory of his hand on their head, that little wink and gentle nudge. But he would have wanted them to give Toriel some space. He would have wanted them to proceed as normal, because that was what they always did right? Just smile and pretend it never happened? What was done was done, just let it go. So they’d tried to go back to sleep, and clearly they’d drifted off enough to dream. But that just meant dust was mixing with Sans’ words in their ear and they hadn’t felt this sick in a long time.

There was a gentle knock on their door. “Frisk, my child, it is time to get up. I’ve made cinnamon butterscotch pancakes, your favorite.”

Of course it was their favorite. Mom would never offer anything less than several spoonfuls of sugar to go with bad news. Frisk had always loved that about her but right now they doubted the butterscotch would sit well with the guilt in their stomach.

But still, they had to face the music at some point. They rose, changing into a pair of shorts and one of the Mew Mew Kissy tanktops Alphys had gotten them at a convention. A cursory glance in the mirror revealed, regrettably, still just them. They trudged out of their room like the condemned, bare toes stubbing into a chair leg on the way due to their lack of focus.

Frisk let out a small yelp, stumbling.

“Oh dear, is everything all right in there!?” Toriel poked her head out of the kitchen in time to see Frisk give a quick nod and glare at their own throbbing toe.

It wasn’t a proper guilt trip, but they supposed it would have to do.

“My goodness, somebody’s quite the sleepy head this morning!” Toriel teased gently as the child finally plopped into a seat at the kitchen table. A plate stacked high with pancakes had already been set in their place, warm butterscotch sauce drizzled artfully over top of them. They looked amazing.

Frisk wanted to throw up.

“Did you have trouble sleeping?” Toriel’s asked as she poured a glass of orange juice.Frisk shook their head. They may as well throw all their chips in and be a liar as well at this point.

“Good,” Toriel’s shoulders untensed a small fraction as she placed the glass in front of the child, condensation already starting to soak the placemat beneath it. “Go ahead and dig in, you must be starving after such a stressful evening.”

Frisk swallowed as they watched the golden sauce soak into spongey cake. They had to keep going. _‘Where is Sans?’_ They signed.

Toriel’s brow furrowed as she sat down in front of her own stack of pancakes. “My child… do not worry about that right now, let’s focus on breakfast first, shall we? I would hate for the butterscotch to get too thick.”

The child shook their head.

A sigh. “Very well then, I suppose there’s no point in keeping it from you,” Toriel murmured, folding her paws before her. “Sans… did not go home last night. Papyrus and Undyne looked for him until very late, but they could not find him. I am sure you are aware how difficult it is to follow a monster who can teleport.”

Oh, Frisk was very aware.

“He did stop by this morning, but only to tell me…” Toriel’s paws clenched, eyes darkening as she gazed down at her child’s face. She took a deep breath and continued. “Sometimes, my child, there are problems that can only be solved with time. I am not entirely certain what is going on myself, but it is clear Sans is… hurting, and not in a way magic can heal. I am sorry, my child, but I am afraid that means he will not be visiting for awhile. He has gone somewhere outside the city and I do not know where.”

The news, bizarrely, seemed far worse the second time. Frisk bit their lip, eyes remaining fixated on the pancakes.

“I understand this is… very upsetting,” Toriel said as she reached a thick arm across the table to take Frisk’s small hand in her paws. She forced a smile that seemed only a touch shaky around the edges. “We all love him and miss him and only wish for the best. But it is clear right now Sans wants his space, and while it is difficult, we must respect that. I am more than certain he can take care of himself and will return soon enough.”

Frisk wasn’t. Their eyes flicked toward the door. Maybe their bus pass would work across state lines.

Their mother let out a sigh, tightening her grip on Frisk’s hands. “I am sure you are already trying to think of something that can be done, but I assure you my child, it would be a fool’s errand to try to chase down a monster that can teleport. You know as well as I do that if Sans does not wish to be found, he will not be.”

A stab of determination edged its way through Frisk’s gut, only to be stomped down by the memory of a Gaster Blaster pointed in their face. There had to be a consequence for trying to fix everything at some point… but they couldn’t explain either. Sans didn’t want to be found and also, clearly didn’t want to talk it over. So what could they do?

Toriel seemed to take their lack of response as a good thing. She nodded, releasing Frisk’s hands. “I am certain it will be difficult, but let’s try not to worry about it, all right? For now, let us eat and afterwards we can see about what the day holds. Perhaps we can do something else instead of the science museum, all right?” She flashed a smile that only seemed just a tad off before she set to slicing her own pancakes.

Frisk didn’t move, staring down at the congealing butterscotch. Their eyes burned.

“My child?” Toriel murmured. “Please, you need to eat…”

A shuddering breath caught in their throat. They shook their head, then reached out and tapped their fingers against the polished wood of the tabletop, a signal for attention. When they had it, they began to sign mechanically. _‘It’s my fault.’_

Toriel frowned. “Frisk, we have already discussed this, you did not—“

There was a clatter as Frisk pushed the plate away, the orange juice sloshing in its glass but mercifully remaining upright. Frisk leaped up from the table and moved to rush toward the door, only to be stopped by Toriel’s arms looped around their waist. Frisk let out a yelp and thrashed for a moment, shaking their head. No, they had to get away, they couldn’t keep doing this, they had to—

“My child, please calm down!” Toriel exclaimed. “I know you are upset but this is not—“

Frisk’s small hands pressed against her apron, after several light shoves they began to sign rapidly into her chest. _‘No, you don’t understand, it’s my fault, my fault, my fault, my fault, my fault—‘_

“Frisk!” Toriel’s paws reached down to gently encircle the child’s small hands, stopping the movements as she peered down at her charge. “Please breathe, I am right here, it is all right. You are home, you are safe, everything is going to be all right. I may not know what is wrong with Sans but I assure you, you would never—“

“I killed you!”

Frisk’s voice was hoarse, croaking from lack of use, the words an unpracticed jumble, but they may as well have been a foghorn the way Toriel flinched. Understandable, it was the second time she’d heard something of that nature today.The boss monster slowly pulled away, her eyes wide. “…What?”

The child shook their head violently, signing so quickly their small joints crackled, transitioning between words so abruptly they seemed to run together. ' _He’s mad because I killed you! I killed you and I killed Papyrus and I killed Undyne and I killed everybody and I killed SANS and It wasn’t me but it WAS and I was just-trying-fix-things-I-just-wanted-everybody-to-be-happy-but-then— but then— but I wasn’t supposed to— everything’s okay now and it’s like it didn’t happen but it did and I’m not supposed to talk about it but SANS IS MAD and I deserve it and— '_ Their hands slowed for a moment, shaking, before Frisk abruptly clasped their own hands together the way most people covered their own mouths.

Toriel gaped at them. “I… I don’t understand… my child, what are you saying?”

Frisk shook their head violently, pulling their arms back to themselves. They’d messed up. It was better to not say anything, it was always better, Sans always kept quiet so what right did they have to blow the secret now? But now it was out and if they just reset but they couldn’t reset but—

Furry arms pulled them close again and Frisk let out a hiccuping breath into Toriel’s chest. Warm paws stroked their hair. “Shhhhhh. It is all right, my child. Please just relax, take deep breaths. Yes, that’s it, shhh…” Frisk sobbed into Toriel’s apron, felt the warmth of her soul through the fabric, smelled butterscotch and cinnamon and that only seemed to make them cry harder. Toriel continued to whisper reassuring nothings in their ear, simply allowing the child to cry it out as she rubbed their back. “There there, you are all right, shhh…”

The child’s sobs lasted for several minutes. Finally, however, they quieted to hiccups and slowed breaths, the last of their tears brushed away by the pads on Toriel’s paws. “There we are,” The boss monster murmured, smiling warmly. “Now, you do not have to answer if you do not want to, but I would like to know… did you overhear me talking to Sans earlier?”

Frisk nodded weakly.

Toriel let out a shaky breath. “Of course. I do not suppose you could calmly explain to me just what you and he are talking about?”

The child swallowed. They didn’t want to. They really didn’t, Toriel’s reaction to the idea was painful enough, not to mention Sans was already mad at them. But there didn’t seem to be much of a choice, so they nodded.

They didn’t get the chance to explain, however, as that was the moment when the front door slammed open.

“KNOCK KNOCK!” Undyne roared. “Yo, Tori, I hope you’re awake because we’ve got a situation!”

Toriel winced at the sound of the door slamming open. “I certainly hope that situation is not another hole in my drywall, Undyne!” She called back, rising to her feet while keeping her paws on Frisk’s shoulders. Her warm brown eyes glanced back to the child, whom shook their head and signed several quick words.

Later. They would have to discuss this later.

“I’m being careful, I swear,” Undyne huffed as she stomped into the kitchen, heedless of Papyrus’ yelp about her boots still being on. She slapped a crumpled blue sticky note onto the table. “Bone boy’s skipped town.”

“YOU ARE NOT BEING FAIR, UNDYNE!” Papyrus exclaimed as he rushed in seconds later, huffing slightly. “THE NOTE SAYS—“

“We can all read, Paps, thanks!” The fishwoman snapped. At his vaguely insulted expression she took a breath, then sighed. “Sorry.”

Toriel plucked the post-it note from the table, frowning. “‘Bro— Sorry about earlier, you’re totally right and I just need to try harder. But hey, what you said finally got under my skin, guess I just need the guts to take some res-pun-sibility. I’m gonna be out for awhile job hunting, dunno when I’ll be back. Don’t worry about me, I’m going tibia okay.” A she read the note aloud, her lips twitched. At the last pun she couldn’t help but giggle. “Love, Sans.”

Undyne audibly groaned. “C’mon Tori, those are bad even for him.”

Frisk nodded in agreement, brow furrowing as they tried to peer through the bottom of the post-it note. How on Earth had Sans managed to fit that much onto a single note?

“My apologies,” Toriel sighed, shaking her head as she set the note down and headed to the fridge. “It is just good to see something is normal in all of this.”

“EXACTLY!” Papyrus declared as he put his hands on his hips. “While I do not condone sleeping on a park bench, which I’m _certain_ is what he did, it is clear that our talk with him last night did some good!”

“Bullshit,” Undyne grumbled as she slumped in a chair, crossing her arms.

“I am starting to think instituting a swear jar here again may be a good idea,” Toriel tutted as she poured a glass of water, then placed it in front of the fish monster. Undyne flashed a toothy, guilty grin before downing it.

“While I am grateful to see my brother taking intiative, I am… concerned,” Papyrus sighed as he sat down as well. “Undyne and I searched until very late, but we never saw him.”

“Try all night,” Undyne sighed as she ran a webbed hand through her hair. “Go figure he’d only show his skull at your apartment long enough to leave a punny note.”

“But he did go home, so that is a good sign!” Papyrus insisted a little too quickly. The pinpricks of light in his eyes betrayed his worry, though that may have also been exhaustion.

Frisk frowned and tapped him on the arm, the hollow noise echoing through the kitchen. _'Did he say anything about where he went?'_

“Aside from job hunting? No, that was all he left,” Papyrus sighed. “Though I am hoping he is at least following a lead in town, I did tell him a number of places are hiring…”

“I’m gonna guess his leads are a little more _out there_ ,” Frisk met Undyne’s sharp glare and winced. Well, at least one monster in the room bought the lie on the post it note. “He could have at least said goodbye to your face, Paps.”

“There is no need, I will see him at home!” Papyrus huffed, folding his own arms.

“Indeed you will,” Toriel said, pointedly looking at Undyne. “We all will. I believe the best course of action right now is to let Sans be, as I told you two yesterday.”

Undyne sighed. “I guess…”

Papyrus’ shoulders slumped. “I just wish there was something I could do…” His eyes flicked to the clock on the wall. “But I do, admittedly, have work in two hours.”

“Me too,” Undyne admitted grudgingly.

“It will be good for you both to keep busy,” Toriel said as she turned and walked toward the stove. “Let us all have breakfast and leave this be for the moment, all right? We can all be back here for dinner and see if there’s anything else that can be done.” Her eyes flicked to Frisk meaningfully, who flinched. Her paw reached down to squeeze their shoulder reassuringly. “Remember, we are all in this together, but it is also important to take care of yourselves first. On that note, I’ll brew some coffee and get this butterscotch heated back up, hm?”

In the chorus of thanks from Papyrus and Undyne, Frisk felt a small bit of weight lift from their chest. They may not have wanted the inevitable future discussion, but it was clear there was no backing out of it now. But that was okay.

They weren’t alone.

—

Hollywood was strange, Sans reflected.

When he’d first left Toriel’s place, Sans hadn’t been quite sure where to go. The past year on the surface had largely been spent in the city nearest Mount Ebbott, which made sense. That was where a large part of the monster population had settled, and there was strength and safety amongst his own kind. King Asgore, with the help of Frisk and everybody else, had managed to handle the situation diplomatically enough to keep the surface from breaking into an all out panic. The monster provisions of technology and magic were decent enough peace offerings, though the first months had still been somewhat rocky. Citizenship and basic rights had come much easier than expected, though of course there was plenty of prejudices hanging at the edges. The world, for the most part, chugged along in uneasy peace, though all monsters were well aware to be cautious of their own actions.

But that was one city, outside of that things were still pretty rocky. Most monster communities if they spread had gone to the more liberal cities, places with alternative cultures less likely to bat an eye at a creature with… well, many eyes. They also often spread to places where the entertainment industry flourished, because why bother with CGI when one could hire an _actual_ monster these days?

He suspected the popularity of Mettaton had been one of the key factors in smoothing the transition. The robot had been in full charm mode the instant he stepped out onto the surface and the world, much like the underground, had been instantly captivated. True to form Mettaton and his backup band had shot into popularity seemingly overnight, producing everything from music to an online talk show and a series of inspirational youtube videos. Their content schedule was baffling, Sans really wasn’t sure how they managed it, though he suspected not having a need for sleep had an effect.

With that in mind, Sans supposed he was fortunate the robot had time to meet up with him at all. He also couldn’t blame said robot for being late, given the skeleton’s own habits.

Sans let out a sigh as he sipped at his third white russian, eyes flitting absently out the window at the leafy palm trees. The plants were absurd, more like the drawings he’d seen of the prehistoric surface than the ever-changing boughs he was used to at home. The people here were stranger still, louder, moving in herds with such speed that Sans was amazed he hadn’t been trampled yet. Everyone here seemed too tall, too fast, their lives moving in a blur of conversation and color that was deeply at odds with his own memories of quiet snowy nights.

It was also hot, though at least not as humid as home. Instead it seemed bone dry (ha!), the aggressive nature of the sun bleaching the color from signs and landmarks. Sans was sure at night the place lit up like a Christmas tree, but in the day everything seemed faded. Of course, maybe that was just him. This, combined with the unfamiliarity of the new park bench had made sleeping the morning away nearly impossible. Oh well. He just had to hold out until the local shit motel was open for business. His drink _sort of_ had coffee in it, right?

“Oh dear. I’d ask what the cat dragged in, but I think even _Catty_ would have better taste than this.”

Sans jumped, glancing upward to see Mettaton standing over him. Jeez, he must have tired if he missed whatever fabulous entrance that had been. The robot in question tipped his designer sunglasses so he could properly stare down his nose at the other monster, perfect eyebrow arched, lips pressed into an expression of disapproval.

“Yo,” Sans snapped a finger gun at him. “Did you just break one of Asimov’s Three Laws? Because you’ve got ‘fine’ written all over you.”

Mettaton rolled his eyes before replacing his sunglasses. “Flattery will get you nowhere looking like that, darling, I know you just wanted to show off the fact that you understand anything about robotics. How long have you been wearing those clothes?”

“You don’t wanna know.”

“I thought as much,” The robot sighed as he swept into the chair across from Sans, the puffy cloud of his purple scarf billowing with the motion. “You could have at least attempted to make yourself presentable, I’d hate to imagine that paparazzi photos from this.”

“Sorry,” Sans shrugged as he took another sip of his drink. “You’re the one who chose such a fancy place.” He fiddled absently with the pressed whine linen of the tablecloth— it was similar to the restaurant back in MTT Hotel, so it wasn’t completely unfamiliar to him, but still not his preferred setting.

“As if I’d settle for anything less,” Mettaton hummed as he carefully adjusted the perfect bun his hair had been pulled back into, then picked up a menu and began to scan it. “Your brother tells me you eat far too much fast food, at the very least you can have something of quality before you get back to drowning yourself in alcohol.” His eyes flicked back to Sans, narrowing again. “You smell like hand sanitizer.”

“I’m sure that’s an insult to hand sanitizer,” Sans snorted as he scanned his own menu. “How often does Paps complain about my eating habits exactly?”

Mettaton tutted, pressing a metal finger to his lips. “A robot never texts and tells.” He winked. The bartender across the room dropped a glass, smitten immediately.

The waiter chose that moment to arrive and was instantly stricken by the sight of his hero. Mettaton batted his eyelashes and immediately set to charming the man in question, leaving Sans to muse in between placing his own order.

Papyrus and Mettaton had been talking for several months now, largely via texts and skype. Papyrus had been absolutely thrilled to learn how close Alphys was to his favorite not-quite-a-rectangle and had begged for a meeting fairly quickly. The two had struck up a quick friendship, something Sans didn’t find entirely surprising. Both of them had a bizarre ego that stretched from loving themselves to seeing the beauty in everyone around them, so it was hardly a surprise this extended to each other. Mettaton would gladly dote upon Papyrus, showing him the finer things in life and heaping him with praise, and he seemed just as taken by Papyrus’ genuine affection and love for showy puzzles. Sans was fine with it, anybody who was willing to heap his brother with consistent praise got a pass in his book. Admittedly, it was a bit odd to see his brother’s cheekbones so consistently flushed by his magic, but whatever, it wasn’t his business.

Undyne had made a point of having Mettaton over for dinner the next time he was in town, then spent the evening smashing tin cans with her bare hands. Mettaton had just calmly sipped the bottom shelf wine and promised he got the message.

“So,” Mettaton spoke, pulling Sans out of his thoughts. “What, pray tell, brings you to my neck of the woods?”

Sans flashed a nervous grin. “What, aren’t I allowed t’ just want to have lunch my most-rusted friend?”

Mettaton quirked a brow at him. “You and I both know I’ve never rusted in my life. I’ve offered plenty of tickets to my shows and I know for certain your brother has had to physically drag you to every single one.”

“‘M just not a concert skeleton, it’s nothing personal. You’re still a good friend, or at least you have been to Papyrus. I mean, sure, there were those years where you basically ditched all your friends and family, but bygones, am I right?” The skeleton shrugged, swirling the remains of his white russian in the glass. It was more water than cream at this point, but he downed it anyway.

Purple lips pressed into a cool smile as Mettaton threaded long fingers together, barely heeding the glass of red wine being poured in front of him. “Don’t play that game with me, sweetheart. You may be the best actor I know, but I still know what’s behind the curtain.”

Sans snorted. “That’s melodramatic.”

“You’re one to talk. Speaking of which, let’s begin doing that, shall we? Time is money and I’m well aware you can’t really afford mine.” Mettaton leaned forward as he spoke, artfully crossing one leg over the other and propping his chin in one hand. He waved with the other and abruptly a Bloody Mary was set in front of the skeleton.

The skeleton blinked down at the drink, then smiled wryly. “Guess that’s a good a segue as any.” He took a sip of the drink. “I’ll cut through the bullshit, I need a job. I know I had a bunch in the underground but it’s…. different up here. The humans may let us live here, we’ve got our rights, but it’s… well, you know.” He shrugged. “Still kinda tough to get a job. It’s easy for Paps, he can talk his way into anything and do anything he sets his mind too. I’m not like that, I just don’t have that kind of energy to win people over, and even if I did, the second I pulled my usual shit I’d be out on the street again. Don’t got any sentry stations t’ snooze at up here, and I can’t have my bro doing my job for me.”

He let out a sigh, reaching up to scratch at his skull. “That sounds pretty gross, doesn’t it?” It felt strange admitting this out loud, he hadn’t even ever said it to Papyrus. Then again, between the two of them, his lack of energy was more an unspoken fact of life, the elephant in the room that Papyrus kicked and dragged him away from. There was no need to discuss it for real.

Mettaton hummed, sipping his wine. “Darling, I’m many things, but I’m not _actually_ a miracle worker. You know as well as I do that the world demands effort, you can’t come to an audience with anything less than your best. I cannot give you a pass if you’re unwilling to try.”

“It’s not like that!” Sans voice rose far more than he meant to. Both he and Mettaton blinked in surprise at his own outburst. “I have tried. I swear I have. I’ve tried so much, you have no idea. It’s… it’s just…” Sans took a long swig of his drink, then let out a shaky breath. “Look, this isn’t about that. I gotta find something I can actually do. Something that I don’t have to have Papyrus shoving me out the door for. I know there isn’t a lot, I know I’m… you know. But back in the underground, I did comedy, right? If you could call it that.”

The robot raised a brow at this. “Yes, I recall.”

“Yeah. So I was thinking, maybe you could get me a gig? Nothing big, just something to get a bit of money in.” Sans set the glass down, the pinpricks of his eyes focused on the melting ice in the cup. He couldn’t look at the robot, not when he was essentially begging.

A sigh. “Sans, you know I would gladly give anything you or Papyrus needed, or anything at all. I offered _months_ ago when you were looking for housing.”

“Well, yeah, but you know how Paps feels about charity! He wants to work toward it on his own!” Sans huffed as he swirled the ice in the glass.

“Ah yes, because Papyrus was the one taking on multiple jobs to pay for the house in Snowdin on top of his royal guard training,” Mettaton drawled. “Papyrus is a grown monster who can take care of himself, Sans. Papyrus is also well aware of when to ask for help when he needs it.”

Sans’ grin dragged a bit at the edges, became more forced. “Well that’s what I’m doing, isn’t it? Look, we’re pretty close, all I’m asking for is a leg up. You’re all about that, aren’t you? Or was that cover of ‘We Are The World’ all for show?”

Mettaton gave another hum of disapproval. “Your brother was right, you really are in a mood. Tell me, if I did get you that job, what exactly would you do? Teleport between here and your apartment every night? I doubt that would be good for your health, you may be good at magic but nobody with a single hit point is made for those kinds of hours.”

The skeleton’s brow furrowed. “It’d just be until we saved up enough for a house. Maybe we could… I dunno, move out here?”

That got a chuckle from Mettaton. “As much as I would love to see more of you both, Papyrus would never truly be happy so far away from the rest of the family, you know that.” He fixed a pointed look at Sans over his wine. “You wouldn’t be either.”

Sans’ shoulders visibly slumped. “…It would just be until I saved up enough for a house.” A lie. The money he made at shows would barely have covered rent, and that was when he’d been established in the underground.

The robot shook his head. “You’re not made for show business, darling. Not to say I don’t think you could do it, I’d never spit upon someone’s dreams like that. But we both know that’s not what you’re here for— this is an escape, not a solution.”

Sans said nothing at that.

Mettaton let out a sigh, reaching up to brush a strand of hair behind his ear. “Listen here and listen well, darling. Your brother texted me about what happened last night, he’s worried sick. It was all I could do to get the poor dear to relax for a moment. I am certain when he said you were out ‘job hunting’, this isn’t what he had in mind. Hollywood is a wonderful place for a distraction, but in the end that’s all we are. Distractions. You have something much better.”

This got a snort as Sans downed more of his drink. “Welp, may as well put me out of a job, cause _that’s_ a joke.”

“Comedy has never been my forte and you know it,” Mettaton smiled. “You have a family. You have a brother who loves you and dozens of friends, and that’s more valuable than thousands of fans any day. In that manner, you’re richer than I could ever hope to be.” The robot flashed a distant smile at that, eyes going to the window as he swirled his wine in the glass. “The cheers and adoration of fans is worth more than I can say, but if I hadn’t realized I needed someone to come back to…” He sighed, looking back at the skeleton.

“I won’t be your distraction, Sans. The fact that you recognize the problem is a good first step. You do need a job, but before that you have to deal with whatever this is that’s weighing you down. And that means going back and communicating.”

Sans glared down at the melting ice and thinning tomato juice. “You don’t even really know me, man.”

Mettaton shrugged. “Nobody really knows anybody darling. It’s all just different faces for different audiences.”

That got a snort from the skeleton. “Is that a spoiler from the latest inspirational youtube video?”

“Well yes, but I’ll let you have it ad free this time,” Mettaton chuckled. “Talk to your family, Sans. It will do you some good.”

As he spoke, the waiter finally arrived with food. Sans blinked in surprise at the burger in front of him, it admittedly looked quite impressive. Was that a fried egg on it? Holy shit, that was genius. However, it seemed to be the only thing on the table. “Didn’t you—“

“I don’t really need to eat, darling, I’m a robot,” Mettaton said he pushed his chair away from the table and stood. “Besides, I simply must watch my figure.” He winked. The bartender dropped another glass. “You go ahead and enjoy that on me, all right? But once you do that, I insist you give your brother a call, he’s worried absolutely sick.”

The mention of Papyrus was making Sans sick as he stared down at the food. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

“Oh hush, _all_ of my ideas are good ones!” Mettaton declared proudly, putting his hands on his hips. “Now please enjoy, this place really does have the best burgers in town— and I would know, I made the Glamburger.” With those words he turned and sashayed toward the door. “Be good to yourself darling, I’d better not see you again!”

Sans watched him leave, then slumped into his seat. “You can count on it,” He muttered as he grabbed a fry and popped it into his mouth. Immaculate, but it definitely needed ketchup. The lights in his eyes flicked around the room, failing to spot a telltale red bottle on a single table.

Hollywood was strange.


	5. i said what i said but you know what i mean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And three weeks later I finally get this chapter done, sheesh. Sorry for the wait guys, like I said, two jobs. This chapter was basically pumped out in the twenty minutes of free time I have in the morning and every spare minute I have during my breaks at my day job, which is not really a writing method I recommend. Also this chapter is back into the hardcore intense drama, so uh, yay. I hope it was worth the wait!
> 
> Chapter title is from Dramamine by Modest Mouse, which is one of my favorite songs of all time. It captures the feeling of drifting extremely well, which I'm sure Sans can relate to at this point.

The sliding glass door that lead out to the backyard didn’t open with nearly the level of drama Frisk felt it deserved. The burst of humidity that hit them was at least a suitable shock, the abrupt change from the cool of the house sending goosebumps prickling down their arms.

Frisk didn’t take the time to appreciate it, bare feet striding with purpose right past the outdoor glass table and mismatched plastic chairs that Papyrus and Undyne had picked up at a garage sale back in May. The sun-warmed deck transitioned to soft, lush grass as they stepped out into the yard. They weaved through water sausages and past well-trimmed hedges (one had been artfully shaped into Papyrus’ face, of course), reaching up to give an absent, friendly pat to the tree they’d planted back in the spring. Toriel’s backyard lacked the colorful splendor of Asgore’s garden, even with the former King’s occasional help, but the careful arrangement of some sturdier plants helped transform the space all the same.

They passed several more familiar landmarks— the bird feeders, the tire swing Undyne had flipped over the tree multiple times, the faded wading pool now filled with sun-warmed water and a few leaves. Finally they reached their destination, coming to a stop before the bench swing and it’s occupant.

Toriel glanced up from her book when she heard the child approach, smiling warmly as she tucked a bookmark between the pages. “Well hello there, my child,” She murmured as she motioned to the space beside her. “Would you like to sit down?”

Frisk nodded against their every instinct before doing just that, bare feet dangling from the swing. Their mother smiled as she reached over to a nearby table and wordlessly poured a glass of lemonade, then passed it to Frisk. The child took a grateful sip, savoring the sweet, cold tang on their tongue. Even slightly diluted by melting ice, Toriel’s recipes were always wonderful.

“It’s a beautiful day,” Toriel commented as she leaned back in the swing, the bench swaying with her weight. She adjusted her sundress, worry clear in the shadow of her sunhat. “The breeze helps with the heat, although it is admittedly still quite humid. It would be a shame to not appreciate the sunshine while we can, however.” She let out a sigh, reaching up to fiddle absently with one of her earflaps. “You do not have to tell me if you are not ready, my child. I understand completely.”

Frisk shook their head mechanically, wiping a palm already soaked from the sweat of the lemonade glass on their shorts. They then shifted in their seat to reach into their back pocket. After a few moments, they pulled out several folded pieces of paper and passed them to Toriel.

The monster took them hesitantly and unfolded them, pausing only to look Frisk in the eyes. “My child, regardless of what you have written here, please remember… you are my child. Nothing could ever change that.”

Frisk begged to differ, had plenty of evidence to the contrary, but instead they forced a smile, grip tightening on the lemonade glass. “I love you,” They whispered.

“I love you too,” Toriel reached out to give a gentle, reassuring squeeze to Frisk’s arm. She then turned to the papers, took a deep breath, and began to read.

“Once upon a time, I had a mom. For a long time it was just me and her out in the woods, but she got sick and did not have very much money. It was okay though, she taught me how to do everything I needed to do. She taught me how to do dishes and how to reheat frozen dinners, and if the electricity was out what was okay to eat cold. Most of our money went to mom’s medicine and she didn’t really have any friends, but we were okay together.” The boss monster paused, expression already twisting into one of heartbreak over her glasses. “My child, you never told me…”

Frisk shook their head, signing quickly. _“It’s okay. Please keep going.”_

Toriel nodded and continued. “One day, mom left. I was okay for a long time, because I thought she was would come back, but nobody came. I ran out of food and I didn’t know what else to do… I was lonely and scared. Mom used to tell me that there was a city full of people on the other side of the mountain and one day, when she was better, we would go there together. There would be other kids and plenty of people and I could even go to school. So I tried to go without her, but I fell.”

The boss monster took a deep, shaky breath, eyes flicking over to the child at her side for a moment before she kept reading. “At first I was scared and I was alone. But then I met you and I wasn’t so scared. I thought I had to leave and make it out of the mountain and into that city, so I left. I traveled the whole Underground, but on the way out I made friends, my first friends. I met Papyrus and Sans, Monster Kid, Undyne, Alphys, Mettaton, Asgore… everybody was so nice. By the time I made it outside, I realized I found my family. I couldn’t leave you all behind, so I came back and we got out together.”

Toriel’s muzzle pressed into a smile as she looped an arm over Frisk’s shoulders, leaning over and kissing the top of her child’s head. Frisk remained stiff in her grasp, taking note of the way her smile fell as she read the next words. “But not everybody made it out.”

“Do you remember when I first came to the Underground and I was attacked by a flower? Do you remember when you came to stop Asgore and the flower came back? That was Asriel, mom.”

Toriel went completely rigid in her seat. “What…” The word was the breathless, pained gasp, a wound still tender even years later. She swallowed, her paws beginning to shake as she continued to read aloud. “Do you remember the experiments Alphys told us about? The ones with determination, that weird power that humans like me have? She tried putting it into some flowers from Asgore’s garden, she was trying to see what would happen if she added it to something without a soul. She didn’t mean to, but she got some of the one’s with Asriel’s--”

The papers crumpled in one of Toriel’s paws, the free one flying to her mouth to stifle a cry of anguish. “How could they… how could _Asgore_ …”

Frisk shook their head violently, setting the lemonade aside and signing as fast as their hands would allow. _“They didn’t mean to, Alphys thought they were just regular flowers--”_

“Flowers from the place where we scattered my son’s dust!” Toriel snarled, and for an instant she was all fangs and claws, more monstrous than Frisk had ever seen her. The child gave a soft yelp of fear, recoiling as their arms flew up on reflex to shield themselves. Their mother softened instantly. “My apologies my child, you did not… you are an innocent in this, I shouldn’t…” She took a deep, shaky breath. “I will be having a conversation with Alphys and my ex-husband, however.”

Frisk winced. _“Do you want to keep reading? It’s okay if you don’t want to, mom.”_

Toriel swallowed as if she were eating something particularly distasteful. She then nodded and picked up the papers again. “Asriel returned as a flower… but he didn’t have a soul, just his personality. He wanted to be called Flowey, because he felt so different from his old self. He couldn’t…” She choked on the words. “He couldn’t feel love. He couldn’t feel anything. He was hurting, mom, and he hurt everybody else because he--” She stopped for a moment, taking another shaky breath as she reached up this wipe away the tears in her eyes.

“Why didn’t he come to me? I don’t understand, I could have--”

Frisk shook their head. _“He tried. It never helped him. He couldn’t feel anything mom, he was all alone.”_

Toriel let out a soft sob at that. “My son…” She looked back to the paper, voice cracking as she continued. “We got everyone else out, but I couldn’t save Asriel. He couldn’t leave the underground and I couldn’t leave him. I _had_ to save him. So even though we made it to the surface, even though everyone else had a happy ending, I reset.”

“This part is hard to explain. When I feel really determined, it’s like I’ve saved that spot in time. It’s like a bookmark, and if I really want to go back to it, I can. I used to only do it if something bad happened… like if I died.” Toriel flinched away from the paper in her hands as if she’d been physically struck. “On my first trip, I died a lot. It was usually an accident, but some fights were really hard. Undyne caught me a lot and of course Asgore--” Toriel swallowed, clearly unable to finish the sentence. “Even you did on accident a few… a few…” Her paw came up to swipe at her eyes. “My child, why…” Her voice cracked, as if the boss monster herself wasn’t sure if she was asking for her own motives or why she was hearing this story at all.

Frisk reached out to touch her arm, shaking their head again. _“You never meant to. Not really. And even everybody who did, they thought they were doing the right thing. I knew that, and you told me to be good, so I never fought back. It’s okay, if I died I’d just come back, nobody remembered. So it’s okay, I’m--”_

“That doesn’t excuse it!” Toriel threw her arms around Frisk, letting out a choked sob, Her paws grasped for the child’s head, pressing Frisk’s face into her chest. “I’m just… I’m so sorry, I may not remember but it must have been awful, to think that I would ever…”

Frisk bit their lip, fighting past the burning in their own eyes. The hug was everything they wanted of course, everything they’d always wanted, and a small part of them was terrified this would be the last time they experienced it. But it wasn’t right. “You should read the rest,” They whispered, hearing their own voice crack.

Toriel shook her head. Frisk sucked in a shaking breath and continued in mumbled, unpracticed, awkward speech.“The only ones who could remember were Flowey and Sans. Asriel in his new form was filled with determination, so he reset a lot, just trying out everything to find something different. Sans… I don’t know how he remembers, he just does. He knew somebody was messing with time a-and I think he remembers everything Asriel reset too. Before I got there he was fighting Flowey for a long time.”

The mention of her first child had Toriel pulling back, brow furrowing. “Why didn’t he--”

Frisk shook their head as they pulled back as well, grateful for the space to return to signing. _“I don’t know. Maybe he did tell you and Flowey reset. Sans tried a lot of things. He fought for really long, but he always woke up back in Snowdin with nobody else remembering. He got really tired…”_ Their signing slowed for a moment and they shook their head. _“It was hard for me, whenever I’d reset and nobody would remember me. There would be conversations, things that happened that always got lost and they didn’t feel right after ‘cause I already did them. I felt like a liar. It must be much worse to be doing it for much longer.”_

“None of it mattered…” Toriel’s eyes widened in realization. “So when Sans said he couldn’t forget everything else… when he said I died--”

_“All true. None of it happened, but it did.”_

The shock of it seemed to have dried Toriel’s tears for the moment, had her reeling as she leaned back in the bench. “This is… a lot to understand,” She murmured, reaching up to fiddle with one of her ears. “I’ve died. You have died. My son was alive in a sense. Sans is…” A frown tugged at her features. “He said he’d killed you… but Papyrus said you two never fought…”

Frisk swallowed. They took the papers away and shuffled to another page, then gestured.

Toriel looked back to them for a moment, then began to read. “When I first came to the Underground, I was scared. I didn’t want to be alone. I think that with my determination woke Chara.”

The boss monster reacted as if she’d been slapped, freezing in her seat. “F-first they were a voice in my head. They would comment on things, keep me company. But they were also scared, they were also hurt… and like me, they wanted to save Asriel. E-eventually they got strong, stronger than me, and they took over. They said it was to protect me but they--”

The story seemed to catch in Toriel’s throat. Her eyes, however, continued to scan the words, blinking through tears and shaking hands. Frisk swallowed as they clasped their own hands together, staring down at them. Even without the tale being spoken aloud, Frisk knew how it went. They had rehearsed the story so many times it would be impossible not to remember word for word.

Even then, words couldn’t seem to do it justice. Words could not express how it felt for Chara’s memories to meld with Frisk’s own, how it had hurt them both deeply, becoming a twisted understanding of danger and pain. “Kill or be killed,” they had said and Frisk had’t wanted to understand but had, could see nothing else when the world above ground was so cruel.

The kindness of loved ones was just more fuel for the fire-- after all, Chara and Asriel had just wanted to free monsterkind. Monsters were good after all, nothing like humans, so destroying the barrier and mankind along with it seemed the only option. Toriel’s pie, Papyrus’ open arms and smile, these were only reminders that monsters were everything wonderful Chara thought they had lost, a reminder that all three of them had to make it to the surface and change things. To use their friends as a sacrifice was a necessary evil to get Asriel’s attention, something that could only be done by human hands, and that idea had almost seemed nobel were it not for Chara’s laughter and taunts as dust coated their hands.

Frisk had fought, of course. They had fought even as their memories and personality were lost in that sea of hurt and madness. They reset time and again, stilled their hands from a monster or two. Their feet shuffled on their own through worlds that were entirely wrong, worlds where a vengeful Undyne became Queen, worlds where Papyrus was the only one left, worlds where Mettaton ruled with a literal iron fist. Worlds where they almost saved everyone but not quite, worlds where the only life they managed to save was a single Froggit. But Chara marched on, growing stronger and stronger, and before Frisk knew it they were not entirely sure when the blows were struck out of rage or just their own exhaustion to get on with it.

By the time they met Sans, Frisk was quiet. Chara had laughed, because it made perfect sense, the final lesson. The world was kill or be killed, this was something only they could truly understand as human. And here, at last, was the punishment that being human deserved.

Chara was right. It had been what they deserved. Frisk may not have swung the knife, but it had been their actions that lead to this point. If they had simply left well enough alone, none of it would have happened. Their determination had only carried them midway and now they were trapped in the throes of their choice.

Frisk wasn’t sure how many times they fought Sans. They weren’t sure how many times they died, how many times he died, eventually all they came to know was Chara’s laughter and their own voice hoarse from screaming. Because Sans was the final proof that this was all life was, kill or be killed, and if Frisk could only accept that perhaps Asriel could too.

But Frisk could not accept it and their friends paid the price for it. And in the end, that was what mattered, wasn’t it? It didn’t matter what had changed, what had made Chara finally listen. The agony they had both felt when Chara finally understood meant nothing. It did not matter that through a piece of Frisk’s soul, Chara’s had been reborn, that they had come together with Asriel to create a single soul. It didn’t matter that the two lost children of the Underground were finally at peace. It did not matter that things had finally been done right, that everybody was free on the surface.

None of it mattered because the price was too high.

Frisk bit their lip, squeezing their eyes shut against burning tears. They had known there would be a price, had known the instant they reset that there would be no true going back. They could never forget, would have to live with the betrayal every time they looked their friends in the face. If it was the price for their friends to be at peace, it seemed fair. After all, Frisk had handled many things on their own, the feeling of sins on their back seemed only right.

But of course they weren’t the only one paying. They weren’t the only one who remembered, and sure, maybe Sans hadn’t wanted to discuss it because he never wanted to discuss anything, but if it meant he got dragged down by the weight of it too...

It wasn’t fair. Frisk couldn’t allow that.

_“But all actions have consequences, kiddo.”_

Of course they did. This was the logical conclusion, the part where they came clean and lost everyone who they had tried so hard for. Finally everyone would hate them, not just Sans, and that made sense because Frisk was only human, right? Only human and a bad one at that, so if the truth set their last friend free, it was worth it.

Their eyes burned. Frisk blinked the tears back, fought to steady their wobbling jaw. No, they would not cry, they would see this through. They would not cry, there was no turning back now. They didn’t have the right to cry, no, no--

“My child,” Toriel finally choked out, her voice cracking and barely recognizable. “Why didn’t you tell me? My children… _you_ ….”

Frisk shook their head, swallowing. They opened their mouth but all that came out was a wet, thick gasp around the lump in their throat. “ _They didn’t… we didn’t want to hurt you… Asriel said you would be upset and so did Chara,”_ Their signs were shaking jerks of their fingers, some words barely recognizable and getting worse as the motions sped up. _“Their souls moved on and Sans said to just let it go because it’s over and I didn’t want anybody to be mad but Sans is still mad and I hurt everybody anyway and I just wanted to help and I wanted… just…”_ Their breath hitched and they shook their head.

“I’m s-sorry,” Frisk whimpered. “I’m not strong enough to do this.”

Toriel let out a sob and scooped the child into her arms, picking them up and crushing them to her chest. Her paws stroked through messy brown locks as she rocked Frisk back and forth, and it would have been comforting were it not for the desperation with which she did it. “H-how can you say that, my child? You are so strong, so brave, you are the bravest child I’ve ever met.”

Frisk’s face twisted in pained confusion. _“Y-you’re not mad?”_

“Of course not!” Toriel exclaimed. “My darling, I could never… how could I be angry with you? You saved my children!” Her breath hitched on the last word, sharp teeth clacking together against the grief. “I only wish you had told me sooner… my child, you should never have had to face this alone!”

Frisk shook their head even as their face remained buried in white fur. _“B-but I hurt you, I hurt Sans, I hurt everybody!”_

This time Toriel shook her head, pulling away. “And I hurt you. My child… when you love someone, it means they are close enough to hurt you. We all make mistakes and mistakes can hurt, it is the nature of living. But to be hurt, to forgive and to love anyway… my child, that is life’s greatest gift and that is what you’ve done.” She flashed a somewhat awkward, tearstained smile. “Certainly, there are odd circumstances at play and I wish you had come to me sooner, but I understand.”

Frisk gaped at her, sputtering. “But… but I’m… you’re supposed to _hate_ me!”

Toriel embraced them again. “Frisk, I could never hate my own child. You know that.”

Wide brown eyes met large, tear-filled ones. Finally Frisk blinked and their own tears finally dripped free, sliding down their face. They opened their mouth, closed it, then finally buried their face into Toriel’s chest again, shoulders shaking.

The two remained that way for awhile, entwined and sobbing over things that were and weren’t. The birds chirped unknowingly on.

\---

You’ve always loved this scarf.

Not as much as Papyrus, of course. The thing had been a birthday present when your brother was very young, back when the two of you had little besides each other. You’d seen it at the dump and thought back to all those stories you read your brother, tales of daring do and brilliant capes billowing in the wind. The scarf may have been faded, but your hero deserved something even if this was all you could offer.

Papyrus had been elated. The thing rarely left your brother’s neck from that birthday forward, surviving thanks to Papyrus’ loving care. In spite of being old, fading, held together by stitches and little else, the thing was a beacon even on the coldest of days.

You don’t need the dustmotes in the air to let you know things have gone horribly, impossibly wrong.

The frayed ends of the scarf dance in the wind as you stare down at it. His dust is scattered with the snow, you see the hint of gray almost imperceptibly mixing with white. It’s not an unfamiliar sight, not really, you have more than enough memories of screaming and tightening vines to disprove that. After all those years spent putting a roof over your brother’s head and clothes on his back, eons spent figuring out every pattern and catching every wicked petal-lined grin, all that for the one thing that still mattered and still...

You should feel something, but you don’t.

You feel nothing, a disturbing sort of disconnect. The wind sends dust in the air and your fingers seem to float in front of you, reaching out to catch it like snowflakes. Your arm and leg bones are a tingling, weightless mess barely keeping you up. You can hear the air whistling through the emptiness in your ribs, mixing with some high pitched whine that may or may not be you. The snow cakes between your feet and slippers, barely a footnote in the whole mess.

Ha. Footnote. Paps would have hated that.

Papyrus would have hated, had hated so many puns. His reactions never got old, you’d gladly tell the exact same pun every time you rehashed this stupid day if it meant you’d get to hear Paps’ cry of outrage. That was what had kept you going when you blinked up at your ceiling in Snowdin yet again, what had you shuffling out of bed to the exact same morning. No matter how many times you repeated the sock war, no matter how many times you experienced that morning’s lecture, no matter how many times that kid came through the door, your brother would respond the way he always responded-- unbridled enthusiasm.

For your brother every day is a gift, an opportunity, and you refuse to ruin that. To Papyrus it was always new, to Papyrus it was worthwhile, to Papyrus you are worthwhile. And of course you aren’t, you haven’t been for a long time, but you can pretend. You had given up on a lot of things, but as long as it was for Papyrus you would gladly keep fighting.

Except it wasn’t enough.

It would never be enough. No matter how many hours you worked to make mortgage payments, no matter how many gifts you gave, no matter how times you cut Papyrus off before he started that stupid fan club, you’d lose him in the end. Whether it was to vines and cruel laughter or the disappointment in his eyes when he dragged you home drunk yet again, you’d lose him because that was the only thing that made sense. Papyrus was too trusting, too good, and it would always be his belief in that stupid flower and stupid kid and stupid you that got to him in the end.

Paps was too good for the world, and if that was the case, what was the point?

The thought is so heavy it nearly caves your ribs inward, your legs so brittle you half expect them to snap under the weight of it. You drop to your knees in the snow, your breath a slow, shaking exhale that mixes in the air with the snow and dust.

Logically, this doesn’t matter, some small part of you points out. This too, as all other deaths, would pass. But that only means you’ll experience it again, and as long as the kid keeps coming, Papyrus will be there to greet them (and possibly his own death) with a smile. You could cut the kid off, but that would break your promise, and wasn’t that just an absurd thought with your brother's dust in the snow? How dare you think that lady’s tears are _anything_ compared to your brother's life, but then there’s the memory of Papyrus laughter as that kid (Frisk, their name was Frisk) found spaghetti under his hat and you can’t take that away, you can’t, Papyrus would be so upset if there was blood on your hands. So instead it would be his dust on the the Earth and how was that right, what place does this have in your friend’s plan? It doesn’t make any sense and you trusted them and they had always been nothing but kind to your brother but now you’ve lost him again and you just can’t.

It’s so stupid. The whole thing is stupid, laughable even, and you think you might have laughed if you could feel anything but this crushing weight.

The wind picks up, his scarf is carried away. You feel nothing.

\---

Cheap motels were the same no matter where Sans went.

Granted, his experience with them wasn’t exactly varied. He could recall staying in a few with everyone else while they waited for things to move forward on the surface, though usually that had not been for long. The beds always seemed too small, though Sans expected that had something to do with cramming six monsters and one human into two rooms meant for four. The experience was nothing like the cozy warmth of Snowdin Inn or the bizarre extravagance of MTT Hotel, that was certain. Still, back then there had been something charming about the lumpiness of the beds, the chinese takeout left for who knew how long in the fridge, the endless maze of hallways made for tag and pattering feet as they all raced for a slightly dingy pool.

Sans was positive that had to do with the company, because he was finding his latest stay considerably less adventurous.

He’d managed to maintain composure for the check-in, but as he’d made his way to his room it finally seemed to hit him just how long he’d been going. By the time he made it to his room he was barely managing to operate his key card, frowning as it failed to trigger the lock until he jiggled it just so. Sans’ sneakers had trailed behind him as he kicked them off. He had then jerked the heavy curtains shut with a grimace before teleporting the ten foot distance between the window ad bed. He _just_ managed to tuck himself beneath stiff, thin sheets before he dropped into unconsciousness.

But then came the dreams of dust and loss and all too soon Sans was awake again. The room felt stifling without the reassuring rattles of his brother’s snores next to him. The thin sheets felt heavy, the gray walls and stained ceiling entombing them in their stagnation. The red numbers of the clock glared at him through the gloom-- five o'clock, so a fairly standard wake up time for him.

Sans grunted as he rolled out of bed, jaw clicking together as he opened and closed it. A sour taste stuck to the roof of his mouth and his eye sockets felt heavy, as if his exhaustion was borrowing it’s way into bone. The crack of his joints as he rose only made sense, he may as well have not slept at all. Of course, this discomfort was nothing compared to the throbbing hangover, but well, that was becoming his only consistent company as of late.

He had simply sat there for awhile, unable to gather the motivation to do much else, but a lurch from where his stomach would have been spurred him onward. Right, food, that was usually something he wanted a lot of. He finally stumbled out of his room, blinking blearily out into the dirty, offensively yellow sunlight of southern California.

Sans spent some quality time with the vending machines at the motel corner. Judging from the faded nature of the advertisement, Sans felt pretty positive this particular brand of cola had gone out of business years ago. The chips in the snack machine had an ad for last year’s sports team, which wouldn’t have boded well if he weren’t already well used to consuming things beyond their expiration date. Papyrus would find it horrifying, being of the firm opinion that now that they had the opportunity, they really should actually _obey_ the labels but well--

Well. Papyrus.

He let out a sigh as his dinner of barbeque flavored ruffles and cheese crackers tumbled to the bottom of the machine. He had said he’d call his brother, and by this point Papyrus would be out of work. Sans reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, pressing a bit harder than he meant to to turn it on.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to interact with his brother, not really. Even after the disaster that had been last night, Sans could never say he didn’t want to see his brother. Papyrus was one of the few constants in his life, the reason he bothered to get out of bed at all. Sure, on occasion Papyrus would be overbearing, but for the most part Sans loved the nagging since it meant somebody cared enough to push him at all. Sure, it meant he was stuck right now since the skeleton was getting increasingly aware that he simply couldn’t do what his brother asked, but that wasn’t really the issue.

The real problem was if Sans heard Papyrus’ voice, he was scared he’d go back.

His thumb ghosted quickly past notifications of a dozen more texts and missed calls, as well as the standard avoidance of all the updates he’d failed to install for multiple months. It didn’t take long for him to find Papyrus number, though he still found his thumb floating hesitantly over the name once found. Sans stayed that way for several minutes, back against the snack vending machine, chip bags grasped in one hand with his phone in the other. Bugs chirped and clicked away in the stubborn plant life. A bird called from overhead.

“I gotta stop telling people I’ll do stuff for them,” Sans grumbled as he finally pressed the name and propped the phone between his skull and shoulder.

True to form, Papyrus picked up on the first ring. “SANS!” Papyrus exclaimed so loudly that the phone speakers crackled. “YOU ARE ALIVE!”

“Hey bro,” Sans drawled, trying to seem casual as he turned back to the vending machine and began to scan its contents once more. “How’s tricks?”

“ _Tricks_ are not good, brother, seeing how I’ve spent the past night and day worried sick!” Papyrus admonished.

“What, didn’t you get my note?” Sans asked as he spotted his prize-- those weird bags of tiny chocolate chip cookies he only ever saw in vending machines.

“I did!” Papyrus cried, his voice once again hitting a pitch that made the phone speaker crackle. “But that does not change the fact that I have worried, you were not well last night and I have not seen you home since!”

The skeleton felt a stab of guilt as he counted out coins in his palm. “Sorry buddy,” He muttered. “Just needed some space. Felt pretty outta this world.”

Papyrus didn’t even acknowledge the poor excuse for a joke. “Are you…” He trailed off for a moment. “Where are you, Sans? It sounds like you are outside.”

“Uh, Brenton and Cherry,” Sans picked two streets absently from memory for the lie. “Figured I’d see if Mojo’s would hire me. They said they could use a comedian but I think they might just be stringin’ me along.” There was a beat of silence. “You know, ‘cause they’re a piano bar.”

“Uuuuugggh! Sans, _please_ ,” Papyrus groaned. “While I am glad to hear you back to your old self, I would rather see you. Please come home, I bought groceries, we can make spaghetti.”

Sans watched as the vending machine whir, slowly unfurling the metal spring to release the last part of his dinner. “Yeah, don’t think I’m gonna make it buddy, sorry. Gotta make sure I try as much as I can, right? I’ll just pick something up, don’t worry about me.”

“Fast food is never a good option, Sans!” Papyrus huffed. “Just take a shortcut home, I am sure some real food would do you good.”

“Grease and instant gratification are cornerstones of this great nation, Paps. To miss out on fast food would be downright un-American of me,” Sans meant for his voice to sound light, but it dipped in frustration as he watched the vending machine stop. His cookies dangled tantalizingly but failed to fall. He let out a growl, slamming his palm against the glass. Dinner failed to budge.

There was a crackle. “Brother, did you say something? You cut out for a moment,” Papyrus said.

Sans let out a sigh as his eye burned, the bag flashed blue as it was magically coaxed from the spring. “Don’t worry about it. Look, I’m doing what you wanted, all right? You should be thrilled.”

He could hear Papyrus’ jaw clicking together, a surefire sign that his brother was frustrated. “I… yes, I did want you to look for work, Sans, but this wasn’t what I had in mind. You’re pushing yourself very hard, have you even slept? You seem to need to do that a lot…”

“Aw, don’t worry about it, it was about time I got off my butt, right?” Sans drawled as he grabbed his prize from the vending machine. His drink was a bit more cooperative, though the heavy thud as the can hit the bottom of the machine had him a bit worried for its contents. “You’re the one who’s always yelling at me to get moving, remember?”

“I was just trying to motivate you! I didn’t... “

The sentence trailed off for a bit too long, Sans’ brow furrowed as he scooped up his spoils. “Paps? You there?”

“Sorry, did I cut out?”

“Yeah,” Sans snorted as he wandered toward the motel courtyard, the hinges of the rusted gate squeaking as he pushed it open.

“Odd, reception is usually better than this,” Papyrus muttered. “At any rate, brother, I must insist that you stop doing this to yourself! I acknowledge I have been a bit… overbearing, as of late. While some of it is certainly laziness, I ought to be more respectful of your health.”

That got another snort from Sans. “Why? I’m certainly not.”

“That is part of the problem!” His brother huffed. “Brother, your health has always been a concern, you know that! You need to be taking better care of yourself, you can’t be drinking all night at Grillby’s, eating grease and then sleeping the day away! If you would just--”

“Didn’t we already talk about this?” Sans cut him off as he sat down at the edge of an empty pool. His sneakers dangled in the air as he unwrapped the cheese crackers. “Look, I’ll work on it, okay? I’m already working on the job thing, you gotta take these things one step at a time, you know?”

“Well, your health should come first then! Sans, you have always been fragile, you need to--”

“You know, I’m not sure where you got this idea that I’m fragile,” Sans stopped him again, eye sockets narrowing. He took a bite, the crackers were stale and the mystery cheese spread more solid than he’d like, but he barely tasted it anyway as he swallowed. “You remember back Underground? You know, back when I had like five jobs bringing in money to keep a roof over our heads? Sure, I slept through half of those, but I still did them. Just cause I can’t take a ton of punishment doesn’t mean I’m an invalid!”

There was a moment of silence and Sans was worried the call had dropped, but then Papyrus’ thoroughly cowed tone crackled through. “I… yes Sans, I remember, and I am very grateful, but you still…” He trailed off.

Sans let out another sigh. “Look, I know you mean well, okay?” He muttered. “I know you’re just looking out for me and I appreciate it, I do. Hell, most days you trying to get me outta bed is the only reason I get up, you know? But you can’t kick and drag me through everything and you don’t _need_ to, I promise. I’m still your big bro.”

“I know,” Papyrus murmured. “It is just… I understand you have bad times, Sans, and I may not fully understand why but I still want to help.”

“I know, buddy.”

There was a moment of silence. Sans stared down into the empty pool, watched the way the evening sun cast blue shadows over the rusted interior of the pool, created patterns in the piles of sun-dried dead leaves, broken twigs and litter at the bottom. What was he supposed to say? Technically looking for jobs was a lie, and admittedly him taking care of himself probably was too, but the truth wasn’t an alternative. So what was left?

“I love you, bro,” He finally muttered helplessly.

“I love you too, Sans.”

More silence.

“So..., I am certain you followed all of my leads, and right now any job is an excellent start, but have you considered anything else?” Papyrus asked conversationally.

“What do you mean?” Sans asked as he munched on another cracker.

“Well, you used to work in the Lab back Underground, you did so much with computers and things like that. I know you liked that job much better than all the ones you had after that.”

The cracker got caught in Sans throat along with the memory of flickering screens and darkness, a white face melting into the gloom. Sans’ eyes widened and he let out a choked cough, reaching up to clutch at his chest.

“You got my computer working in Snowdin,” Papyrus continued, apparently not noticing. “I am sure the humans would appreciate your skills just as much as I do. I am also certain Alphys could get your foot in the door where she works-- though I’m not actually sure what she does, come to think of it…”

Sans managed to swallow, grimacing as he felt the jagged edge of the offending cracker scratch the back of his nonexistent throat. “You kinda need a degree up here for that, buddy.”

“Alphys managed,” Papyrus pointed out.

“Alphys was the royal scientist,” Sans said flatly as he flicked open the soda can at his side. He let out a groan as it promptly foamed in his grasp, reaching out to hold it over the edge of the pool. Sticky foam clung to his fingers and soaked the edge of his sleeve-- great, so much for the small victory of the thing still having carbonation.

“And so were you!” Papyrus exclaimed. “I… you were the assistant, weren’t you? Along with Alphys and…” He trailed off, the phone gave a sharp, static crackle that was entirely unsurprising given the subject matter. “What was the name of your boss again?”

“That’s ancient history, don’t worry about it, buddy,” Sans muttered as his soda stopped throwing its fit. He slurped some of the escaped foam and sugary liquid from the lid of the can, teeth clinking against the aluminum. The drink was lukewarm. “Look, I don’t think anybody up here is gonna care about the qualifications of some skeleton who never even finished his internship. I’m good with waiting tables, I swear.”

“W-well, you could always get a degree, couldn’t you?” Papyrus pointed out. “They have schools up here, perhaps you could go to one?”

Sans scowled as he sipped at the soda, he really didn’t like where this was going. “Kinda need money for that, bud. We’re saving up for a house, remember.” And by ‘we’, he meant ‘you’, but he pushed that bitter thought aside.

“I-I could get a second job!” His brother exclaimed. “I could work while you went to school, it would be no trouble at all!”

“Absolutely not.” Sans voice came out harsher than he meant. “You’re not working yourself to the bone so I can go to some bottom-of-the-barrel human school for a meaningless piece of paper for something I don’t even want.”

“But it’s the least I can do!” Papyrus exclaimed. “Brother, please, I know you worked very hard when we were Underground, let me--”

“That was different,” Sans growled. “I’m the big brother here, I should be the one with the jobs paying for the house. It’s my job to look after you, not the other way around”

“I’m not a baby bones anymore, Sans! If anything, I already look after you!” Papyrus exclaimed. “You said so yourself, you don’t even get out of bed unless I drag you out of it! I have to push you to eat right, to do anything at all, even this job business is--”

“Woooooow!” That got a harsh laugh from Sans, a deep one that echoed in his ribs. “Hoo boy, am I ever glad to get back to _this_ topic.”

A frustrated sigh. “I… I apologize, Sans, I did not mean it like that. I just--”

“No, no, go on Paps, speak your mind. You think I’m fragile, right?” Sans’ tone rose to a harsh, darkly amused pitch. “Big bro Sans used to have a nice job down at the lab but he gave up on that, big bro Sans used t’ work five jobs to make sure you had food and a nice room and a race car bed but he gave that up, big bro Sans used to take care of you both but now he can’t even take care of himself cause he’s so. Goddamn. Fragile.”

“Sans, that’s not what I--”

“Nah, you did,” Sans snorted. “You meant exactly what you said. But hey, I get it. I’m the one with the tiny baby bones like glass, not like big, strong Papyrus. I’m not the responsible one, not like you. I mean, it used to be like that, but I just don’t have the energy anymore and that’s not really surprising since I never took care of myself anyway. I’ve never been capable of much, and now that I’m finally a burnt out, washed out sack of nothing you can just take care of me in my old goddamn age, right!?”

There was a moment of silence after his outburst. Sans breathed hard into the phone. A bird called out somewhere, the setting California sun burned against the back of his hoodie and skull.

“Sans…” The pain in Papyrus’ tone may as well have been a jab to his brother’s soul. “I didn’t… it isn’t that I want to take care of you. I’ll do it, I will gladly do it, I would do anything for you, brother, but I would like it very much if we could simply work together as we used to.”

Sans winced. “...Yeah. I wish we could do that too.”

“W-we still can!” Papyrus exclaimed. “Sans, I… I don’t know what’s going on, but I wish to help! We all do! Please, I am willing to listen, I know I’ve been pushy. I apologize if I hurt you, if I’ve done anything wrong just tell me and I’ll apologize for that as well.”

His brother grimaced. “Paps, you didn’t…” The words were stuck in his throat. “I just need some space. Gotta take it one step at a time, that’s all. I just… I’m tired, you know?”

“I know. And that is okay, I know you have been working hard for a very long time. You always have done so much for me and for everybody else, I do not say it enough.”

Sans felt tears prickling at the corners of his eye sockets. Shit. No, he wouldn’t cry, he didn’t deserve to cry, sure there were years of effort but then there was the memory of drunken nights whiled away, days spent asleep, dust on the wind, no, he wasn’t…

“I know you can take care of yourself, Sans. You have always taken care of me, but I would much rather you focused on yourself first.”

“...I’m _real_ bad at that, bro,” Sans breathed out.

“I understand you are tired, Sans. But that is why I am here to help… you are my big brother Sans. I do not think you are fragile, not really. I am concerned for your health, but I have always believed you can do absolutely anything if you set your mind to it. We can start slow, I am not expecting anything, I just want you to be okay. Please come home? We could sit down and discuss this, come up with some sort of plan.”

Sans swallowed, scrubbed at the corners of his eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, that actually sounds okay, bro. Maybe you’re right.”

Maybe that wasn’t such a bad idea. Maybe his brother was right, he had always handled this stuff before. Sure, he wasn’t providing like he used to, but for Papyrus, he could pull it together, right? The school thing was definitely not an option, but he could sort something out, Sans was always good at managing something as long as he could muster up the energy. If he could just--

“Really!?” He could hear the relief in Papyrus’ voice. “Oh, I am so glad! I am sure everybody else will be thrilled!”

Sans’ brow furrowed. “Everybody else…”

“They were all very worried when I showed them your note!” Papyrus declared. “Undyne thought you had left town but I knew you would never do that! As soon as you get home we can start on a plan, we’ll work out a schedule for your day, some sort of list, I am certain with Alphys’ connections and perhaps with a good word from our ambassador we can find something to get you started!”

At the mention of Frisk, Sans felt his nonexistent stomach drop. “You don’t have to… I don’t want everybody getting involved, I got this.”

“Oh, I doubt it’s any trouble!” Papyrus declared. “Sans, everyone is more than willing to help. Why, if you did want to go to school, everyone has savings, I’m sure we could--”

“ **No**.” Sans felt the lights in his eyes go out.

A beat of silence. “...Sans?”

“I’m not going to school. I’m not gonna weigh everyone else down with my shit, especially not you and definitely not Frisk,” Sans growled into the receiver. “I can take care of myself. I shouldn’t have bothered any of you with this, it’s not anybody else’s problem.”

“Sans, we all just want to--”

“Yeah, I get it, you all just wanna help!” Sans snapped. “Look, it’s not something you can help with, okay? I didn’t wanna involve any of you, I should be able to deal with this like I always do, and if I can’t, that’s _my_ problem, not _yours_ , understand?”

More silence.

“...Sans, we are family. Your problems will always be my problems.”

“Yeah, well, I’m sorry for both of us then,” Sans muttered bitterly.

“Sans, I am very sorry, if you just--”

“What was that?” Sans cut him off. “Sorry Paps, you’re breaking up, looks like the reception’s getting bad again. I’ll be in late tonight so I probably won’t see you. Later.” With those words he pulled the phone away, jabbing at the screen to end the call. He shoved the phone back into his pocket, glaring down at the empty pool. He then took the soda can, threw his head back and downed the remaining contents.

Fuck all of them. He could take care of himself. And if he couldn’t, well, that was nobody’s business but his, right?

Sans shook his head as he squashed the empty can in a burst of magic, then hurled it into the pool. It clattered against the faded concrete, rolling for a bit before coming to a stop at the bottom with the tattered remains of chip bags and moldy plastic. His mind absently drifted to memories of lazy tosses to trash cans that missed, crumpled paper bags billowing in the wind as long, bony legs ran after them. “Guess that was littering,” Sans muttered to himself as he stood and brushed off his pants.

“Sorry Paps. My bad.”


	6. throw my better self overboard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you weren't planning on things getting better anytime soon.
> 
> Get ready for a rather long chapter that's almost entirely about Alphys, Sans, and a whole lot of allusions to Sans' past before the game and the reason why he remembers the resets. You know, like you do. Also a reference to Slaughterhouse Five, because Kurt Vonnegut is a talented writer and I think Sans would enjoy the book even if I doubt he could be bothered to remember the name of it.
> 
> Chapter title is a lyric from Heel Turn 2 by The Mountain Goats. Such a good song. Really fits the idea of Sans finally having enough, I think.
> 
> Thank you so much for your kudos and feedback! If you spot anything in particular that you like, PLEASE be sure to comment and let me know. Specific feedback is really helpful, it lets me know exactly what I did right. Also if you spot anything you have any issue with or have any constructive criticism on how I can improve, please feel free to let me know. If something really doesn't work, I can always go back and edit, after all.
> 
> WARNING: Some intense disaster shit for the flashback section. Nothing super graphic but my beta reader found it a bit intense, so just some forewarning.

“T-This isn’t fair, summer break means you have more time to train during the day than me!” Alphys’ voice was a grumble as her claws tapped away on her 3DS, a flurry of activity. By contrast, Frisk seemed completely calm, beaming from their cross-legged position on the floor.

 _“You don’t have a bedtime,”_ They signed pointedly. _“And you’re the one who taught me about EV training.”_

Alphys scowled as she rolled over onto her stomach, tail slipping off the edge of the couch and thumping agitatedly against the floor. “I thought you’d be like me and just choose Pokemon that you thought were cute!” 

Frisk grinned as they tapped a few more buttons. Alphys gave a giggle, frown softening into a smile as she looked at her screen. “You _would_ have a Sylveon.”

 The two sat wordlessly for awhile as they played, the game sound effects punctuated by Alphys’ gasps of shock, groans of defeat and cries of victory. Silence wasn’t really a thing when Alphys was comfortable, which suited Frisk just fine. It had taken some time for the former royal scientist to feel okay with being at Toriel’s house without Undyne around, but her girlfriend’s job meant Alphys often spent many hours by herself working from her new lab at home. This suited Alphys just fine overall, but even she could admit that enough time by herself left her stuck in her own head.

Plus, she never ate right when she was by herself.

So Alphys would often show up at Toriel’s house, overfilled laptop bag in claw. Granted, she spent far more time watching anime and playing video games with Frisk than she did actually working, but that was preferable to her shirking deadlines alone. Besides, all it took was Toriel clearing her throat and the gentle reminder that Frisk had homework to get the two focused again. 

But after the past day or so they both needed the distraction, so that meant Pokemon.

 Alphys let out a dramatic groan as victory music played from Frisk’s machine. “I should have been training harder, uuuugggh! I underestimated you.”

Frisk giggled, but after a moment their face fell. _“I had a lot of help from Sans,”_ They signed, expression guilty.

“O-oh…” Alphys shoulders slumped. “Well, he is _freakishly_ good for somebody with a team of nothing but joke Pokemon…”  Her eyes flitted to Frisk’s slumped shoulders and she forced a smile. “I-I’m sure he’s okay Frisk, he just needs some space. He’ll be back telling awful puns and kicking our butts at video games before you know it!”

She got a forced smile in return, the equivalent of sweeping emotions under the rug. Before she could comment, however, Toriel entered the living room.

 “All right, the lasagna is in the oven,” The boss monster declared, wiping her paws on her apron as she did so. “I do hope Papyrus likes it. I am certain he would rather have helped make it, but he is getting out of work a bit late tonight and I would rather we ate at a reasonable hour.”

“I’m sure he’ll love it, your majesty,” Alphys said with a smile. “I know Undyne will too. They should be home soon, right?”

Toriel nodded, sitting down in her armchair with a sigh. She glanced down at Frisk, whom nodded, before her expression became considerably heavier. “Alphys,” She began. “Could you put your game away? There is something I must discuss with you.” It was her turn to nod when the human glanced up at her. “Yes Frisk, you may stay.” 

The lizard monster’s brow furrowed and she snapped the gameboy shut immediately. “O-of course your majesty, what is it?” She asked as she rose to a sitting position .

That got a somewhat grim smile from Toriel. “Well first of all, you really ought to stop calling me your majesty, but I suppose right now the additional respect is wise.” She took a deep breath, folding her hands in her lap before fixing the lizard woman with a hard look. “Do you remember before the barrier broke? When we were attacked by a golden flower?” 

Alphys flinched.

Toriel gave a hum. “I thought as much. When Papyrus mentioned the flower back Underground, you seemed afraid. At the time I simply thought it was the situation, but Frisk told me about your work in your lab. Not the amalgamates. The flowers. My former husband’s flowers.”

Alphys winced. “Y-your majesty, t-the results weren’t… n-nothing came of--”

“An omission of truth is the same as lying, young lady.” Toriel cut her off, voice hard.

Her words had Alphys recoiling into the couch. Her tail curled around herself protectively, thick arms wrapping around her pudgy stomach. “I-I didn’t mean it like that, I swear! I’m not lying, Toriel, I just didn’t--”

She jumped when Frisk abruptly hopped onto the couch next to her, wrapping their small arms around her. A messy head of brown hair leaned against her scaly shoulder. _“Deep breaths,”_ Frisk signed once they were certain they had her attention. _“We love you Alphys. You’re our friend. Mom just needs to know what happened.”_  

Alphys swallowed and nodded. She reached out to grab a throw pillow from the couch and hugged it to her chest, claws curling into the fabric. “M-my experiments with determination on monsters didn’t have the result I wanted… a-and I wanted to help. I thought maybe if I tried with something alive but not sentient, maybe that could be our ticket… maybe we could finally break through the barrier without hurting anybody else. But it didn’t work, or at least I thought it didn’t.” She shook her head. “The flower disappeared from my lab, I didn’t see it for a long time after that.”

“W-when we got to the end, Papyrus mentioned a flower a-and I thought maybe… but I couldn't really remember what happened after that and nobody else mentioned it so I had hoped…” Alphys paused, taking a deep, shaky breath. “Maybe it didn’t happen, maybe I got lucky and there was something I hadn’t…”

Toriel shook her head. “I am sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but the flower was indeed real. And that is not all. Were you aware those flowers were where my former husband and I scattered my son’s dust?”

Alphys paled. “N-no… but that was so long ago, there’s no way--”

 “You brought my son back.” Toriel’s voice was crackling ice. “You brought him back without a soul. He was aware of the world around him but he couldn't _feel_. Can you even imagine?”

The scientist looked like she had been punched in the stomach. Her jaw moved but no noise came out, her eyes wide, shaking claws clutching at the pillow in her lap like a lifeline. “I didn't… I didn’t _know_ …” She finally choked out.

“No, you did not. I am aware my son’s fate was not your intention, Alphys. I doubt Asgore told you about our son’s resting place and I doubt he even considered the dust a factor. In spite of his sentimentality, it does not seem to affect him where we could have most used it.” Toriel spat out the black bile she normally reserved for the topic of her ex, paws twisting in the fabric of her skirts. She took a deep breath, returning to the stern expression she’d had before.  “Your failure to mention your involvement with the whole mess is your responsibility, however.”

“Y-you’re right,” Alphys breathed. “I’m sorry, I should have said something. I-I just… I didn’t…” Her lips quivered and she gave a whimper as the first tears welled up. “I’m so sorry your majesty, I should have known better. I-I’ve apologized about the lab before but it’ll never…” She reached up to scrub at her eyes, fought to make her face impassive and didn’t quite manage. The pillow was scrunched toward her face as if trying to create a plush wall. “I-it’s my responsibility. I may not have known about the flowers but when it came to my experiments… t-there were warnings, I wasn't careful at all… I just wanted to help everybody!”

“I understand that, and I appreciate your good intentions. It does not change the fact that your carelessness cost a great deal.” Toriel frowned as she glanced at Frisk, who shook their head at her. The boss monster sighed. “What’s done is done. My son is laid to rest now, Frisk saw to that… through great struggle, might I add.”

“G-go figure.” There was bitter admiration in Alphys’ tone as she flashed something that might have been intended as a smile in the child’s direction. “There you go, cleaning up all my messes again.” 

Frisk shook their head again. _“I didn’t mind. It’s really okay, I know it wasn’t on purpose. I already forgave you.”_

Another pained whine. “I don’t deserve that. I should have talked about it, I should have told someone, I just…” There was a high-pitched whine as she put her face in her hands. Frisk threw their arms around her shaking shoulders immediately, but this did nothing to dam the words and sobs that poured from her mouth. “I just want it to be over. I just want it to stop and it keeps coming back up and no matter what I do I can’t… everybody just keeps dealing with it for me and I said I’d be honest but it’s too big, it’s all I am, I can’t! I can’t fix it anymore and everyone’s going to hate me and I don’t blame them because I already--” 

“Alphys,” There was a paw on her shoulder, startling the lizard woman into looking up. She blinked into Toriel’s warm eyes, then glanced down in surprise at the box of tissues in the boss monster’s other paw. “I do not hate you. I could never hate you. While I am disappointed that you did not tell me sooner, you apologized and that is enough. What’s done is done. Please dry your eyes, dear.”

“K-kay…” A few final tears slipped down Alphys’ cheeks as she gave a thick sniffle. She grabbed a fistful of tissues, then began dabbing at her eyes. The pillow dropped to her lap, forgotten in lieu of proper clean up. After a few moments of struggle she removed her dirtied glasses, allowing Toriel to take them without a word. “S-sorry, I didn’t… ugh, I went and made it about me again, didn’t it? _Stupid_ Alphys…” 

“If you keep insulting yourself like that, I _will_ be cross with you,” Toriel warned as she rose to her full height, folding her arms before her.

“Haha, sorry…” Alphys mumbled before blowing her nose with the sort of cacophonous noise normally reserved for a poorly played trumpet. She looked to Frisk and their wide grin, then huffed, scaly cheeks puffing out. “D-don’t look so smug just because I’m in trouble here!”

 _“I_ told you _to stop being mean to yourself!”_ Was the decidedly smug reply. 

“I-it’s not that easy!” The lizard woman huffed, rubbing at her reddened eyes. “L-like I know I had good intentions, I know everybody forgives me, but it’s like… my brain doesn’t believe it? A-and stuff like this is just a reminder and it’s just like ‘yeah but have you considered that you’re garbage today?’ and then it’s like ‘Everybody else is just waiting for the right opportunity to tell you that, give it time!’”

“Alphys, I have seen you in every possible undone state on my floor at all hours. I think I’ve seen more than enough to make that decision for myself. You are not garbage, and you not calling yourself garbage or any other self depreciation is an excellent step toward not feeling that way.” Toriel tutted as she walked over to the bathroom, flicking on the faucet so she could wash the glasses in her paw.

“W-well _sure_ , that makes sense logically, I just…” Alphys frowned for a moment, then laughed as Frisk gave her another squeezing hug. “You’re right. I just need to work at letting myself believe you’ll all be there for me. You didn’t hate me after the lab, why should anything else be any different?” 

Frisk beamed and reached over to push the pillow aside, then promptly situated themselves in Alphys lap to their friend’s surprised laughter. “M-my goodness, Frisk, so forward!”

“Are they flirting again?” Toriel tsked as she returned, passing Alphys’ glasses back to her.“Frisk, you heartbreaker, what am I going to do with you?” 

Alphys snickered as she replaced her glasses. “You know, I’m curious, Frisk. How did you help the um… prince? I didn't even know that happened until today, I’m sure it’s an impressive story! You’re always so brave.” Frisk stiffened in her arms, causing her brow to furrow in confusion. “Frisk?”

Before she could get their answer, the front door slammed open. “WE’RE HOME!” Undyne needlessly declared, an uncharacteristically quiet Papyrus in tow.

Toriel let out a long suffering sigh as she sat down on the couch. “Undyne, please. My drywall.”

“Sorry, Toriel,” Undyne mumbled as she kicked her boots off. “It’s just--” She froze the moment her eyes fell upon Alphys. “Babe, is everything okay? You look like you’ve been crying.”

“I-I’m fine now!” Alphys said hurriedly. “Frisk was helping cheer me up! Weren’t you, Frisk?”

The child nodded as Undyne walked up to them. “That so? Well thanks for keeping an eye on my girl, squirt.” A webbed hand reached down to ruffle Frisk's hair before gently nudging them from Alphys’ lap. “But now it’s my time to unleash my full girlfriend powers!” With those words she scooped Alphys off the couch, to the lizard woman's squeak of delight. “NGYAAAAAAH! Comfort powers activate!”

“Please do not roughhouse indoors, Undyne,” Toriel said as she leaned back to avoid the whirlwind of Alphys’ tail. 

“This isn’t roughhousing!” Undyne declared. “This is _LOVE HOUSING_!”

Alphys giggled as Undyne kissed her cheek several times. “I don’t think that's a thing, but thank y-- _oooh_!” Her sentence was cut off as Undyne dipped her and kissed her on the lips.

Frisk clapped from the couch before Toriel covered their eyes and cleared her throat.

“Sorry Toriel,” Undyne said as she lifted a blushing Alphys back up and gently set her on her feet. “But Paps has been a real downer all the way here and I can't exactly kiss _him_ better.”

“I have not been a downer!” Papyrus huffed from the entryway. He had only just finished his careful removal of his sneakers and was in the process of plucking Undyne's boots from their haphazard floor pile. “I am merely… preoccupied. “ 

“Bone boy called him after work,” Undyne explained as she set Alphys back down on the couch as she set Alphys down on the couch, then joined her. Said couch was getting very crowded but nobody complained, all eyes currently on Papyrus.

“Sans called you?” Toriel’s voice was one of surprise.

 _“Is he okay?”_ Frisk signed.

“O-oh, if he turned his phone on, I can track the signal, we can at least see where he is!” Alphys exclaimed as she plucked her own phone from the side table and began clicking away. Aside from a hoarse croak to her voice and the puffiness in her eyes, she seemed grateful for the distraction from the previous discussion.

“There is no need Alphys, he last told me he was on Brenton street. If he’s as adamant about job-searching as he says he is I doubt he went far,” Papyrus said as he finally rose from the floor.

Frisk glanced over at Alphys phone, brow furrowing as they took in the little flashing marker over southern California. Alphys met their gaze, opening her mouth to speak, but closed it when the child shook their head. 

“He told me he would be out late tonight and to not expect him for dinner. I suggested he come home and make spaghetti with me, but oddly enough, he did not seem to want to.” His nostril sockets twitched as he smelled the air. “But it smells as if you already cooked it here, Toriel?”

“Lasagna, actually,” Toriel said with a gentle smile. 

Papyrus nodded sagely. “Ah, yes, the baked square spaghetti.” He reached up to fiddle absently with the edge of his t-shirt. “I just… I do not understand why he is doing this. I know my brother has always had an unhealthy love of fast food, but I have always been there to make sure he eats properly on occasion.  I did not expect him to put a job search above that… granted, I am not so sure I expected him to actually search for a job at all.”

“W-well, you _have_ been pushing it for months…” Alphys pointed out. “Even after Her Majesty said to let it be.”

“Yes, but I had hoped he would go about it the proper way, this is completely unhealthy!” Papyrus huffed. “I tried to get him to come home and do things properly, I have tried _many_ times over our lives. I almost convinced him earlier but he got upset and hung up on me! He hung up on his own brother, can you believe it!?”

“Well, what did you say to him?” Toriel asked.

Papyrus was beginning to pace as he spoke. “Nothing I haven’t said before! I asked him to come home and I told him we all wanted to help. I understand Sans has problems, but we all do, and I have yet to find a problem the Great Papyrus-- and friends, cannot solve! All I suggested was better diet, _any_ exercise, some sort of plan for the future! It is not difficult when you set your mind to it!” He threw his hands up in the air. “All I am asking is for him to take better care of himself, it is all I have been asking for _years_! He has always been lazy, but this is getting absurd!”

Undyne let out a sigh. “You’re trying too hard Paps, that's the problem. Sans never wants to do anything, you can’t help somebody who doesn't wanna help themselves.”

 “...Is that really what you think?” Alphys’ voice was surprisingly clear, raw from the previous conversation but lacking her usual stutter. Undyne’s brow furrowed and she opened her mouth, but her girlfriend continued before she could get a word in. “You think he's just being _lazy_? I-I told you he’s been having nightmares, he obviously had a panic attack yesterday, and you think that’s all just being LAZY!?”

Papyrus winced. “I-I… yes?”

“He’s _depressed_!!” Alphys snapped, throwing her claws in the air. “Or at least I’m pretty sure he is, I haven’t exactly given him an evaluation. B-but he’s showing all the symptoms! He sleeps too much, he eats too much, he’s told pretty much everyone in this room at one point over the past few days that he feels like he can’t do anything! Are either of you even paying attention!?”

Boney fingers twisted together as Papyrus fidgeted nervously. “I-I am, Alphys…”

Undyne recoiled from Alphys, biting down on her lip with sharp teeth. “W-whoa, Alphys, wait a second…” 

“NO! You both need to hear this!” The lizard woman growled. “I don’t know what’s going on with Sans. None of us will _really_ know until he feels comfortable enough to share it. And yes, him talking it out and letting us help would be great. But he’s not going to want to come back if you keep overwhelming him like this! D-do you have _any_ idea how much energy goes into fighting when you’re depressed!? Do you have _any_ idea what it feels like to spend every day feeling like you shouldn’t even be alive!?” Her voice cracked at the end, tears welling up in the corners of her eyes, but she kept going.

“Yes, getting exercise and a job would be good for him. Yes, talking to us would be good. Those are all good things. But you have to start small and let him do it on his own terms. When you throw it on him all it once it doesn’t sound like help, it just sounds like another giant list of things everyone wants from him! Just a big list that’s too exhausting to deal with when he’s already dealing with so much else! S-so yeah, _of course_ he doesn’t want to, and then you go and call him _lazy_!?”

She paused for a moment, taking several long breaths after her outburst. Then Alphys pulled her knees up to her chest, tail curling around them as she looked away. “I-if you think that about him, what could you possibly think about me?” 

“Alphys…” Undyne’s visible eye widened, horror in her tone. “Oh God, oh no, babe, I never…” She reached out to pull her girlfriend close. “No, Alphys, I could never think that about you. You’re so brave. You did so much and kept going, even after all that junk in the lab. You were brave, you told us everything even though you were so scared, you’re doing everything you can to make all that better…”

Alphys tucked herself under Undyne’s chin, expression still pained. “W-well, that’s…” She sniffled and shook her head. “This isn’t about me. I’m just trying to give you some perspective. If you feel that way about me, Sans deserves the same treatment. Y-you can’t just make it all about you and your solutions to his problems, he’s not like you two. He needs somebody to _listen_ , not keep forcing him to do stuff when he’s already beaten down.”

Papyrus swallowed as he wrapped his bony arms around himself. “I had not considered that, Alphys. I suppose I was… rather enthusiastic. I-I just want to help.”

“We know you do, Papyrus, but Alphys is right,” Toriel finally spoke. “We need to be approaching Sans on his own terms, not trying to force things. Which, I remind you, I have been saying for a day now.”

The skeleton nodded. “I know, Toriel, I just… I had not…” He looked to Alphys. “Do you really think that’s how my brother feels?”

“I-it’s possible. I wouldn’t know for sure, I haven’t been able to talk to him in awhile.” Alphys said. “B-but I’ll tell you what-- if he keeps his phone on, I’ll see if I can get anywhere. Maybe what he needs is somebody with similar problems to listen.”

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. There’s my genius girlfriend!” Undyne grinned as she kissed Alphys on top of the head. She then flashed a sheepish smile. “And I uh… I’m sorry I wasn’t being very understanding. You know I don’t think you’re lazy, right? I could never think that about you, you’re the bravest monster I know.”

Alphys smiled back. “I-I know. My brain doesn't always believe it, but I know.” She let out a sigh as she settled herself into her girlfriend's arms, eyes fluttering shut. “Oof. It’s been a day.”

“Why don't you take some time to relax, Alphys? I’ll get you a soda,” Toriel said, rising to her feet.

“Yeah, sugary crap always helps!” Undyne declared as she pulled Alphys closer. “And then when you get the chance, you can go and understand _the hell_ outta Sans!” 

“Please do not ‘the hell’ anything about my brother,” Papyrus muttered as he headed for the couch. Frisk quickly made space so he could drop with a light _‘fwumph!’_ into the space next to Undyne, then curled up against his bony side. The skeleton let out a noise of surprise, then sighed, wrapping his arms around the child.

“It does sound like it defeats the purpose,” Alphys said as she buried her face into Undyne’s tanktop. 

“Naw, it just means you’re taking life at four hundred percent!” Undyne declared, punching a web fist in the air. Then she paused, considering, before letting it drop down and draping this free arm over Papyrus’ shoulders. “I mean, I guess maybe that’s too much right now. Is two hundred percent dialing it back enough? Like remove the two L’s and just say you’re understanding the ‘he’ out of him?”

Frisk giggled. 

The four of them remained like this for some time in spite of the heat, a pile of warmth and words they desperately needed.

\---

Your skull is ringing.

 It echoes the state of the lab, a mess of swirling dark, ash and numbers swirling in the hollow spaces. Everything that isn’t black is red, a burn that was never meant to be there stinging your eye sockets, your nasal passages, your windpipe. You’re not sure if it’s the alarms or you that's screaming so loud.

It grows darker, darker, yet darker. You and your fellow intern are neither alive nor dead until you open the box.

Alphys' face is a mess of horror and tears but you ignore her, focus instead on putting one foot in front of the next. Your legs are too short, too stubby, you’re not meant for running but you have to try. You have to run, you have to _run_ but there's nowhere to run to. Every turn is an equation that ends with you both as muddy smears of dust on the cold floor. 

It is all happening and yet it never has, never will as long as you have something to say about it. You know this, you don’t know how you do but you _know_ , you understand this world is just a mess of zeros and ones. Zeros and ones that can shift and change, or so the theory went. You may not fully understand the Determination coursing through you but you know the experiment has made you Different.

It grows darker, darker, yet darker. You and Alphys are both dead and alive until you open the box.

You’d been uneasy about this one, but the Doc had been curious and you had always been too lazy to argue. You should have known better, you’d spent so much time looking forward into the zeroes and ones, you’d never stopped to consider what you were leaving behind. If the anomaly you’d glimpsed ahead on the readouts could change time, if you could use these zeros and ones to peer into past and future, why couldn’t the two of you do the same thing? Humans didn’t own Determination, you could alter it, change it, use it-- you’re proof of that. You had a team after all, it should have been easy.

It was too easy, actually.

You and the Doc threw back the curtain and you were not happy with what you had found. The zeroes and ones could shift, could change, but make a change too big and you’d leave a hole behind. A black hole, an endless hole, something dark and hungry that sought to consume all it touched. It had swallowed your mentor in one endless, screaming instant of a pale face melting into blackness, stretched across the room toward the rest of the team.

 So you ran. You grabbed Alphys, your fellow intern, the only one within reach, and you ran.

The darkness snapped at your heels, a yawning, gaping maw closing in like the tides. You run. It will not be enough. To the left lies an end where you are crushed by debris, to the right the floor gives way and you are consumed by the molten rock below. The darkness roars, crackling with static and the whine of electricity and there is no way out, nowhere to go, nothing. 

There is no equation that does not end you.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God, no, nononono…” Alphys has been reduced to high pitched babbling, tears and snot streaming down her muzzle as she stumbles behind you. Her words are breathless, weighted by the despair you feel in your ribcage. “I don’t want to die, I don't want to die, pleasepleaseplease!” 

“We’re not gonna die. We haven’t opened the box yet,” You mutter as the ringing in your skull grows louder, as the darkness swallows you both. There is no equation that ends right, so you’ll have to change the numbers. 

You step forward. The changes are minor enough, you aren’t actually going far. Add zeros where there should be ones, divide where you ought to be multiplying. For an instant you are nowhere at all, loosened from the fabric of everything. The darkness clings to the ends of your lab coat but you pull against it, multiply zeros and ones until they are a wall against the static in your skull. You’re squeezing through a hole that’s tight, too tight, closing around you like the throat of some great beast and you know this dimension is collapsing, _you_ are collapsing, but you push. Something in your right side crunches inward, your face is a burning mess of red and shards of bone, your vision is a kaleidoscope of broken images but you keep _pushing_ \--

Your right eye _pops_ like an overheated lightbulb. 

It doesn’t matter because everything else is abruptly red and yellow and hot. The shift from cold hallways to the heat of Hotland is like being punched in the chest. You drop to the ground, let out a grunt as you hit dirt mixed with soot. You gasp for breath.

Darker, but then light and lighter still. You are alive. 

“Sans… oh god, Sans, can you hear me?” Alphys claws are pulling you up, gently, as careful as they can be in spite of how they shake. You barely take note of Alphys gasp of shock, her horrified face swimming in your vision. “Y-your eye, Sans--”

There are claws over your face, pressing against broken bone, getting slick with red liquid. A cry bubbles up from your throat as you try to bat them away, the noise thick and more like a cough than anything else. “Sans, stop, I-I have to heal you, you might be blind--”

“It doesn’t matter!” You gasp out, pushing her away and forcing yourself to rise. Even sitting up seems impossible, your bones shaking with the effort. “I gotta get back in there!”

Alphys shook her head. “You can’t, it’s dangerous, you’re hurt, we’re alive and that’s all that matters! W-we can check what reports made it later, it doesn’t matter!”

“Al, if I don’t go back everyone else is gonna die, they might already be dead!” You gasp out in a rush, your words are burning like the liquid in your mouth. “If I can jump again maybe I can save somebody else!” 

Alphys’ brow furrows and she pulls away, her confused expression shadowed in the glow of the magma. “Somebody else? W-what are you talking about?”

You continue almost as if you haven’t heard. “I-I think I could probably still get to Gray, he was close to the Doc but not _that_ close so I might be able to--”

“Sans, what are you talking about? W-we work alone.”

\---

Sans jolted awake with such force that he found himself halfway across the room, the remnants of a blue glow still flickering at the edges of his vision. He let out a yelp that was cut short as he crashed to the motel floor, where he lay groaning for a moment.

Welp. That was embarrassing. Good thing Papyrus wasn’t around to see that or he’d be in for a lecture and--

“Fuckin’ hell,” Sans muttered into what was left of the motel carpeting. One would think that his own memories of existential horror would be enough to get his mind off his most prominent problem. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case and upon waking, his chest still felt like it was missing a piece. Of course, that pain was radiating to his shoulder blades now, so maybe that was just the bad mattress.

He rose with a flash of blue and hit the light switch in the bathroom before his bare toe bones hit the linoleum floor. His own exhausted face blinked blearily back at him, all heavy shadows under his eyes and grin-turned grimace. Most frustratingly however, only one of his pupils twinkled back at him.

Sans had not been able to see out of his right eye in a long time, not since… well, since. He supposed it was fair, there had to be some price for jumping from a collapsing reality. Most of the time he was able to use his magic to at least keep something there, his mug was ugly enough without people questioning where one of his eyes was. It also made it much easier to put both eyes out when he felt like being particularly creepy. 

The skeleton growled, reaching up and smacking the side of his face a few times as if he were trying to fix a television with bad reception. After a few smacks the light flickered back into existence, though still considerably dimmer than the pupil that actually worked. Sans let out a groan of defeat, allowing himself to flop back onto the closed lid of the toilet. Nothing like an emotional breakdown to mess with his magic.

His chest throbbed like it was missing something. He fought to ignore it, turned his thoughts instead to dreams better left buried.

It had been a long time since he’d given the accident any thought. He supposed it made sense, after the phone call he’d opted to shortcut from place to place in some desperate attempt at finding a distraction. This, of course, had not helped at all. Forests cast ribcage shadows across valley floors on the east coast, great lakes glittered with a splendor that felt accusatory due to him witnessing it alone. Quaint villages felt too close to remembered snowy nights, whirring cityscapes of neon too full if imagined commentary. Everything was Papyrus to him because that was how it had always been.

Go figure, he’d gone and screwed that up like everything else.

Not only did his impromptu jumps do nothing to help, his magic was waning. This made sense, shortcuts were easy enough but jumping across time and space to places he’d never been was a bit more taxing. He’d ended up several stories too high or seconds away from becoming roadkill more often than he cared to admit. When his final jump had him stuck in the middle of a busy intersection for far longer than he’d have liked, Sans had decided he was probably exhausted enough to sleep without dreaming. 

Apparently his mind was still stuck on the subject of things that weren't.

Sans reached up to absently trace his right cheekbone. It had healed pretty well, all things considered, even if his eye hadn’t. In retrospect it seemed a fair price, they’d been messing with something they shouldn't have after all. Determination and time were messy concepts at best, but his boss had been too curious and he’d been too young, too proud. He’d been lucky to escape the collapse with one good eye and his then best friend, no one else had gotten that.

 But he was also the only one who remembered, and well, that kinda summarized the whole issue, didn't it? 

When Sans had been back Underground, back before the resets, before his internship, before he’d stopped trying, he’d found a book. The thing was sopping wet and he’d never learned the title, but the story had stuck with him. The book detailed the life of a young human, Billy Pilgrim. Some was a story of some war or another that had happened on the surface, some was life trying to move on after the fact but that wasn’t what really interested him. The interesting bits were spaceships and aliens who experienced life in four dimensions and reacted to all things with a simple saying. “So it goes”, they would say, because all things were possible and happening at all times for them, so what did one hardship or moment matter? Sans had still been a fan of science fiction at the time so he had loved it, but thing that _really_ caught his attention was the way Billy Pilgrim’s life was presented completely out of order and largely, in the end, meaningless. Billy was “unstuck in time”, witnessing bits and pieces of his life completely out of sync and when Sans had read the idea he’d found it absolutely fascinating.

Now it was just kind of funny, because well, that just made him and this fiction one and the same, huh? Here he was like old Billy Pilgrim, knocked slightly loose from time and space to see what lay outside it. The paths and choices of the world were little more than numbers to be fudged to put him at a different spot on the map and in the end none of that mattered because all equations lead to similar ends anyway.

So it goes.

Sans let out a sigh as he made his way out of the bathroom, pawing at the bedside table for a moment before flicking on the lamp. Doing things without magic was hard. Everything was hard, but his mind was awake now and that meant he doubted he was going back to sleep. The skeleton bumped into the edge of the bed and promptly flopped face first into the pile of sheets it had become. After rolling himself onto his back he plucked his phone from the bedside table, pressing it on.

Once again Sans was assaulted by the bright light and far too many notifications for his liking. Most were from Papyrus, everyone else seemed to have gotten the hint. He ignored them, skeletal thumb instead tapping for the Undernet. If he couldn’t take a shortcut anywhere physically, he could at least drown himself in memes.

When the monsters moved above ground, Alphys had brought the Undernet with them, as it was a useful tool for keeping in contact with everybody. For the most part Sans used his Undernet profile for what he always did-- trolling, specifically trolling Papyrus. For now it was just a tool for distraction, however, and that suited the skeleton just fine. He scrolled his way past dozens of rambling anime reviews, paused at videos that he cared enough to read the subtitles for but not actually turn the sound on, snorted over well-placed gifs. It wasn’t that he felt better, the way his chest constricted when he caught sight of a Papyrus status was proof of of that, but if he focused on the stupid cat videos he could pretend. 

His messenger app gave a quiet ‘ _ding_ ’! Alphys was messaging him. Sans’ good eye flicked over to the clock before he tapped on the message. 

It was an attachment. Standard pepe face, creepy shoujo anime eyes, all photoshopped onto a ‘hang in there!’ cat. Sans snorted as he began to type, sitting up to lean back against the headboard as he did so. 

_*legendaryfartmaster89: and just what do you think you’re doing, sending me sub par memes at two am?_

He watched the ellipsis bounce next to the Alphys’ profile image. It was the same as it always was, but the quivering energy of it suited her.

_*ALPHYS: M-my memes are never sub par! This is a quality Pepe! A very rare Pepe!_

_*legendaryfartmaster89: nah. you spend too much time on animu message boards, all your memes are expired. you gotta go to the source. the mouth of the meme stream._

_*ALPHYS: Oh my God, Sans._

Sans snickered to himself. It felt good, having a normal interaction.

_*legendaryfartmaster89: srsly tho, what’re you doing up?_

_*ALPHYS: W-well, I’m working on a proposal on how energy from the CORE worked and how it can be put into use on the surface. There's a lot to summarize._

_*ALPHYS: Not to mention even with all my data, humans still don't trust anything without like two dozen human sources._

_*ALPHYS: Which is a problem, cause like, how am I supposed to get that when we’ve only been up here a year?_

_*ALPHYS: but the Board is breathing down my neck c-cause I promised them clean energy. So. It’s pretty stressful._

Sans considered her words, manufactured stutter and all. There was no reason for Alphys to be typing her nerves out like that, but the skeleton could admit he appreciated that about her. He doubted it looked great to a team of stuffy human scientists but hey, she’d managed underground.

_*legendaryfartmaster89: yeah that's fair. i'm sure you’ll get it though, you're smart._

_*ALPHYS: I-I guess._

_*ALPHYS: It’d be easier if I had your help. Like I have your reports from when we built it but it's not really the same, you know?_

Sans groaned. This subject was coming up much too frequently for his liking.

_*legendaryfartmaster89: all i’d add at this point are puns. trust me, you’re fine._

He glanced up at the paper bag he’d dropped on the nearby armchair, then promptly broke his own magic rule as he shuffled through it with a burst of blue. Eventually he found his prize, a bottom shelf, plastic bottle of whiskey that was already a third empty. The cap flew off in a flash of blue before the bottle reached his hand, and Sans regarded the thing with the same sort of apprehension he would give medicine. This was a terrible idea, he should know, he’d been a scientist. But he didn’t feel like laying in the void of the motel room anymore and he wasn’t sure he could handle a discussion with anybody sober, so classy bed drinking it was.

He took a drink, then very nearly choked on it. It burned, bad. Sans coughed and sputtered as he set the offending bottle aside, glancing down to see that Alphys had messaged him multiple times during his break.

_*ALPHYS: So how’s California?_

_*ALPHYS: S-sorry, I swear I’m not stalking you, I just set up everybody’s phones with GPS and I happened to notice._

_*ALPHYS: You don’t have to talk about it if I’m prying!_

_*legendaryfartmaster89: nah, it’s cool._

_*legendaryfartmaster89: socal’s… hot, mostly. like i came here for a change in weather but in retrospect that was pretty dumb. If there’s anywhere that’s not raining, it’s california._

Sans considered the screen for another moment, then quickly took another drink so he could prep his next question. 

_*legendaryfartmaster89: how’s everybody doing? is pap doing ok?_

He watched the ellipses bounce for several seconds, feeling his soul sink with the burn in his nonexistent gut. His choice in screen name was really working against the intensity of the whole situation. Thankfully, Alphys seemed willing to ignore it given the gravity of it all, which he appreciated. If anybody was able to overlook the ridiculousness of the legendary fart master being serious, it was Al.

_*ALPHYS: Everyone's… dealing. They're all worried about you, obviously._

_*ALPHYS: but Toriel said to leave you alone so we're all trying to give you space._

_*ALPHYS: Papyrus said he talked to you today and you two got in a fight. He seemed pretty upset._

_*ALPHYS: B-but I get why you were upset too. Papyrus means well but he can be pretty overwhelming. So I understand._

Sans grit his teeth at the words. On one hand, it felt good to have somebody besides him voice his issues with that particular conversation. On the other, he’d pushed away his brother, the one good thing in his life, and Sans didn’t feel he deserved any kind of absolution for that. Quite frankly Alphys should have been tearing him a new one, but well. She was trying.

_*legendaryfartmaster89: yeah._

_*ALPHYS: I think he understands he pushed too hard. So he feels bad but he said he'd back off._

Great. Less Papyrus. Sans wasn't sure why that made him feel so deflated, wasn't this what he wanted? Just some space while he completely failed to sort out his own shit?

_*ALPHYS: Um…_

_*ALPHYS: Do you want to talk at all?_

_*ALPHYS: I TOTALLY GET IF YOU DON'T WANT TO THAT'S TOTALLY FINE_

_*ALPHYS: I just know when I’m going through stuff it can help to have a friend to listen._

_*ALPHYS: S-sorry, I’m probably being dumb._

_*ALPHYS: If you want I can just send silly cat videos? I have a bunch!_

_*legendaryfartmaster89: i had a dream about the accident._

Sans blinked down at his own fingers as if they’d betrayed him. But no, there it was, something stupidly truthful amongst Alphys’ self perpetrated chaos. Maybe he could blame the alcohol, but his friend responded in a flurry of text before he could take it back. Why couldn’t the shit motel wi-fi choose this moment to short out?

_*ALPHYS: I… have dreams about that too. All the time. Almost as much as… y’know, the other stuff._

_*ALPHYS: L-lots of dreams where we don't make it out. Or I do but you don't._

_*legendaryfartmaster89: yeah, it was kinda like that. except we made it out but some other people didn’t._

_*ALPHYS: I have a lot of dreams where the machine implodes and for whatever reason all our friends are there? A-and I have to watch and I try to make them run but nobody does._

_*ALPHYS: And then the machine implodes and Undyne’s face melts into a white mask!?!_

_*ALPHYS: It’s freaky._

Sans took another swig of whiskey before he replied. Alphys’ words blurred for a moment but he pressed on, because yeah, go figure this would be the moment when he'd luck out on a steady wi-fi signal.

_*legendaryfartmaster89: yeah that sounds about right_

_*legendaryfartmaster89: dreams where the whole lab implodes and we’re trying to run but it’s not enough. dreams where we both die, a lot._

_*legendaryfartmaster89: dreams about a whole lotta people i couldn't save_

_*ALPHYS: You saved me._

_*ALPHYS: For awhile after… you know, I thought it would have been better for everyone if I’d died back then._

The memory of vines, strong as steel and coiled around Papyrus with vile purpose for the hundredth time, _that_ memory agreed. Sans pushed the thought aside along with the flip-flop of his insides, his suffering may have been partially the fault of Alphys’ experiments but it wasn’t like she’d known. Besides, the flower had been necessary in the end to getting them to the surface. That meant those thoughts, like most of Sans’ problems, needed to be inconsequential in the end.

He took another drink. It was probably not a great idea to drink half the bottle in one sitting, he was already starting to feel it. However, it was making those sharp-edged thoughts fuzzy and Sans desperately needed that right now.

Alphys was still talking.

_*ALPHYS: I know I caused everyone a lot of trouble and I thought if I’d just… if you’d just left me, none of that would have happened._

_*ALPHYS: But if I’d died there, I would never have met Undyne or Frisk or anybody else. I would never have seen the stars for real._

_*ALPHYS: I’m grateful. So thank you._

_*ALPHYS: I’m sure this doesn’t really help, but I mean… you saved us both that day. We’re alive. I know your brain says otherwise, but nobody else was there, we made it. And since we’re the only two people who can really understand what happened, it’s okay to talk with me about it, you know?_

_*ALPHYS: I get it, I’ve been there. Like the memories come back and they seem really big and heavy and all you can think of is what you could have done differently, what you could fix. And how you’re a bad person because there’s no way to fix it._

_*ALPHYS: But you aren’t a bad person for living, Sans._

Sans’ laughter rumbled through the motel room, a dark thing. She really had no idea what she was saying, not that he could blame her. Only one other person could mostly understand what he was going through, and they were eight years old and prone to resetting time over fucking eggs. This conversation had been a bad idea after all.

_*legendaryfartmaster89: i appreciate this al, i do. even if I don't really wanna talk about it._

_*legendaryfartmaster89:  but you don’t really know what you’re talking about. there’s a lot of other stuff you don’t know. none of you know._

_*ALPHYS: I-I get that. Everybody experiences this sort of thing differently.  But I know your symptoms, you have nightmares, you sleep too much or eat too much or you don’t do either. You keep making lots of self-depreciating jokes._

_*ALPHYS: I know what that’s like. Of course I do._

_*ALPHYS: And I know what it’s like to have stuff you… you can’t let go of.  And it’s okay that you can’t, you’ve been through some awful things. It’s okay to be weighed down by it, I know it’s a lot. It’s okay that you don’t feel up to doing everything right now, you’ve had to deal with those thoughts for a long time._

_*ALPHYS: It’s okay to take things one at a time and deal with them, you know? It’s okay to do what you need to do to take care of yourself. It’s okay to do what you need to make yourself feel safe. Everybody understands and we're here for you, you know?_

_ALPHYS: It's okay to forgive yourself. For all of it._  

Sans stared at the words on the screen, feeling something twist. They should have made him feel better. Alphys seemed to know exactly what to say, and Sans knew that made sense given her own situation. But it rang hollow, because the words were right but she didn’t _know_ and somehow that just made the skeleton _angry_ because how dare she act like she understood?

_*ALPHYS: ...does this have to do with the flower? Whatever else is upsetting you, I mean._

 Sans froze.

_*ALPHYS: Because Toriel and Frisk told me about that today and I know Frisk had to do… a lot because of my mistakes. Did you have to deal with something too?_

 Frisk had told her about the flower. And Toriel knew too. So what else did they know? What else did _everybody_ know?

 _*ALPHYS: Because if you did, I know sorry doesn't even_ begin _to cover it, but I swear I never meant for all that to happen!_  

_*ALPHYS: A-and if you hate me, I understand, and you have every right to hate me._

_*ALPHYS: I just… if there's anything I can do, even if it's just listening to what happened, I wanna know._

_*ALPHYS: ...I’m sorry, Sans._

Something broke.

 _*legendaryfartmaster89: you think sorry even begins to cover it?_  

 _*legendaryfartmaster89: you think SORRY is gonna undo all the times I had to watch your science experiment kill my little brother?_  

_*ALPHYS: What?_

_*legendaryfartmaster89: you think sorry undoes how many times I saw that thing kill you, how many times you told me you deserved it?_

_*legendaryfartmaster89: you think sorry makes up for all the hell I went through fighting that thing?_

_ALPHYS: You fought it?_

_*legendaryfartmaster89: and hell it’s a great blanket statement for all the shit the kid had to go through to try to clean up your mess too, it works for everything! SORRY!_  

_*ALPHYS: Sans, I don’t understand, what are you saying?_

_*legendaryfartmaster89: “gee guys, i created an unholy abomination of plant life and whatever is left of the saint of the underground and it wreaked havoc on more timelines than could ever be counted, but hey I’M SORRY so it’s cool now, right?”_

He was being an ass. Sans knew he was being an ass. But now that the lid was off, there didn’t seem to be a stopper to the bile spewing from his fingertips. Every nasty thought he'd ever had was coming out, and unfortunately for Alphys, she seemed a very deserving target. 

_*legendaryfartmaster89: i told you not to fucking do it_

_*legendaryfartmaster89: remember? back when i quit i told you to leave the DT Extractor alone_

__*legendaryfartmaster89:_ determination and monsters shouldn't mix i already proved that _

__*legendaryfartmaster89:_ didn't think you’d need a physical copy of the reports to fucking remember._ 

_*legendaryfartmaster89: but no you just gotta please people right?_

_*legendaryfartmaster89: and hey my work only applied to LIVING monsters so loophole_

_*legendaryfartmaster89: but hey its fine_

_*legendaryfartmaster89: after all you're SORRY_

_*ALPHYS:  Sans, I didn't know, I… you’re not being fair._

_*legendaryfartmaster89: sure I am_

__*legendaryfartmaster89:_ that's my whole schtick, right? Being fair_

_*legendaryfartmaster89: you think you can sit there and tell me it’s fucking okay and everybody will forgive me and it's not my fault and that's great cause that’s what YOU wanna hear, right?_

_*legendaryfartmaster89: so good to hear that your feelings are worthwhile and it’s not your fault. just take your sweet time and take care of yourself and make your safe space, right?_

_*legendaryfartmaster89: it’s perfectly okay to wallow in my feelings and not do shit and let the world pass me by because i’m sick right? i’m sick and i’ll always be sick because i made that dumb mistake but hey it’s not a mistake anymore because i’m SORRY so i can just wallow_

_*legendaryfartmaster89: cause hey all you do is sit at home all day and make everybody walk on eggshells around you so they don’t fucking trigger you but we understand cause you’re DAMAGED right?_

This was truly awful, this was the worst thing Sans could possibly say to her. He could feel the weight of his own words pulling him through the cheap mattress, but that weight did not slow his typing. His fingers were a blur, the room around him too warm in spite of the nearby air conditioning unit. The phone felt burning in his hands, too hot, but it did not matter, nothing mattered but those words standing stark on a glowing screen.

_*legendaryfartmaster89: everything can be like those stupid fanfics you read, right? the ones where your waifu has anxiety or depression or whatever so you can project all your stupid little problems onto some typo-ridden pile of garbage?_

_*legendaryfartmaster89: all the other characters are all completely accommodating of the fact that your waifu doesn’t leave the fucking house because that’s all you wanna fucking hear_

_*legendaryfartmaster89: everybody’s nice and sweet and has nice textbook definitions and internet buzz words and they all curl up in a fluffy cuddle pile and everything’s great the end?_  

_*ALPHYS: STOP IT!_

_*ALPHYS: STOP IT SANS, JUST STOP!_

_*legendaryfartmaster89: what’s wrong al can’t handle the fucking truth?_  

_*ALPHYS: It’s not true, it’s not, shut up, shut up!_

_*ALPHYS: I’ve been trying SO hard! I’ve been honest, I told everyone everything, I’ve owned my mistakes! I’m working, I’m doing my best to communicate, I have done SO much!_

_*ALPHYS: What I read to deal with my shit is NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!_

  _*ALPHYS: Yes, I have problems! Yes, sometimes I CAN’T go outside, sometimes it’s too much! But I am DEALING Sans, which is more than I can say for you!_

_*ALPHYS: You don’t get to sit there and tell me I’m damaged, it’s not fucking true!_

_*legendaryfartmaster89: yeah great fucking job sometimes you go outside. i’m real proud_

_*legendaryfartmaster89: face it al the real world doesn’t fucking work like that_

_*legendaryfartmaster89: all the trigger warnings in the world aren’t gonna erase that fucking lab in the ground_

_*ALPHYS: And it shouldn’t! I never said we should act like it never happened!_

_*ALPHYS: I’ve accepted what I did, Sans! I apologized! I let the fallen go back to their families! I messed up with the flower, I know, and I should have listened to you, okay? I should have done a lot of things differently, if I could go back and undo it all, I would do it in a heartbeat!_

_*ALPHYS: But I can’t, all I can do is move on, and you should be trying to do that too!_

Sans let out a laugh, breathless and reeking of alcohol. He let himself slide onto his back again, holding the phone over his head so he could keep typing. 

_*legendaryfartmaster89: move on? we don’t get to do that, al_

_*legendaryfartmaster89: that’s not how it fucking works. you don’t get to bring unholy abominations to life and not face consequences_  

_*legendaryfartmaster89: the kid doesn’t get to just fucking move on when their stupid fucking kindness got everybody killed_

_*legendaryfartmaster89: i don’t get to fuck up my lifes work and completely fail to save my mentor and a room full of my friends_

_*legendaryfartmaster89: i don’t get to get off scot free when i let the whole damn underground die over and over and over again_

_*legendaryfartmaster89: it doesn’t matter that were in a different timeline now, it still happened. sorry doesn't do shit_

He glared down at the phone for a minute, having finally run out of words. Though she had said nothing in some time, Sans had no doubt that Alphys was sobbing in front of her computer. He should have felt awful but mostly he just felt hollow, as if with all the vile words gone Sans had nothing else.

The ellipsis appeared next to Alphys’ name, bouncing up and down. 

_*ALPHYS: ...I’m not asking for there to not be consequences. I never said that. But there's a difference between consequences and refusing to deal and move on._

_*legendaryfartmaster89: whatever al_

_*ALPHYS: I’m gonna go. If you wanna talk to me I’ll be here._

_*ALPHYS: I’m always online, right?_

_*legendaryfartmaster89: yep_

_*legendaryfartmaster89: see ya_

Sans let his grip loosen on his phone, let it tumble to land on his chest with a dull ‘ _thump_ ’. He should have thrown it, it would suit the situation, but he just didn't have the energy. Really, he should have done a lot of things. He should have apologized. He should have taken back every damn word and apologized for ditching Alphys all those years ago while he was at it. He should have taken a shortcut straight home to deal with the inevitable tongue lashings and punch to the jaw he undoubtedly deserved after all that.

The room spun. Oof. At the very least, Sans absolutely shouldn't have drank as much as he had. But well, that was hindsight, and as for the rest he just didn't have the energy.

Whatever. So it goes.


	7. shoot at him when he comes up for air

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh... this chapter is 29 pages. I meant for it to NOT be that insanely long, but welp, characters kept being mad at each other and going places I didn't expect. That's writing I suppose. Hopefully it isn't too rambly? Also hopefully people don't get too mad about this chapter. An important thing to remember is a large theme of this fic is everyone has their reasons for doing what they do and everybody makes mistakes. Everyone.
> 
> Have I mentioned Undyne is my second favorite character aside from Sans? This should concern you.
> 
> Chapter title is a continuation of the lyric from last chapter's title. Once again, said lyrics are from Heel Turn 2 by The Mountain Goats.

It’s been so long since you've seen the sun.

You never forgot each time you got to this point, of course. Nothing would ever match the joy of the true first sunrise, of everyone’s exclamations of wonder meeting the open air for the first time. But you’d sacrificed that because there had still been work to do, and after that point you’d only visited this moment to remind yourself what you were working for.

It would be even harder to forget the times you’d _both_ made it to the sunrise, their lips barely suppressing a smirk as they promised Toriel they’d stay forever and ever. Easily the worst was the time they’d made it out into the world, starting a new life. They’d lived out months with only you as an audience to their cruel commentary and reminders that they could take it all away in an instant. That was the closest you’d ever come to giving up. Sure, the life you were living was no longer your own, but saving Asriel may have actually been impossible and at least your other friends were happy. Plus there were those moments of hesitation, the moments where they could have ended it all and didn’t, moments that had you hoping perhaps your mom’s warm smile was changing something after all. You’d been trapped in a stalemate for months, too stubborn to reset but not quite stubborn enough to get your hands back.

As per usual, it was your skeletal guardian angel who pushed you on. Because of course he knew, he always knew, probably would have known even if he hadn't seen your hands shake when they gripped a knife, saw them smirk behind his brother's back. He was the reminder that consequences always loomed on the horizon, that one false step was all it would take for everyone to turn on you like you deserved. The only time he did not stop them was when their hands had finally driven that knife into your stomach, that single glowing blue eye watching you with a sort of grim finality.

 _“Bored again, kid?”_ He’d asked with a casual air as he plucked the knife from their bloodcaked fingers.

Their laughter was wet, cold. _“Isn’t this what you wanted, asshole?”_

He’d shrugged. _“You coulda taken a stab at living this through. They all love you, they don't know any better.”_

Another laugh. _“Exactly. They don’t know. You do and you hate us, so what else is there? I’m here for Azzy, not you. So we’re going back to him.”_  

A snort. _“Kay. See you in the Judgment Hall, brat.”_

That had been the last time you’d seen the sun. But you're here again, _just_ you, and while it's a bit lonely, you’ll admit it's nice. It feels good to feel the sun on your face, to hear everybody’s laughter again. You’re free, truly, and it’s enough to make you laugh right along with everybody else.

But then he’s looking at you and your stomach plummets through your boots. Oh. Right. 

“Hey Tori, mind if I talk to the kid alone for a minute?”

Your mom blinks in confusion but nods. “Yes, of course Sans. I should speak with the others on the plan moving forward anyway, feel free to join us when you are ready.” She beams down at you for another moment, takes a bit too long to let go. It would always take Toriel some time to accept that her wish had come true and you weren't going anywhere, not that you blame her.

Really, you’re amazed she wants you at all. 

She leaves you and Sans alone on the clifftop. Sans stands there in silence for some time afterwards, hands in his pockets, the fur lining his hood billowing in the wind. You wait with what you hope comes across as patience instead of cold terror and dread.

“So. Are you really Frisk or am I still talkin’ to someone else?” He finally asks. 

You swallow, hands shaking a bit as you sign back. _“It’s just me. It’s just Frisk.”_

There is a moment of silence as he looks down at you. You feel like you’re back at the judgement hall again, like those pinpricks of light are peering into what’s left of your soul. “All right,” He finally says. “What about whoever else was in there? What about the Prince?”

You shake your head. _“They’re… gone. Between the two of them, they made one soul, so once Chara understood--”_

He holds up a hand. “Gonna stop you right there, kiddo, it’s cool. I don’t really wanna know.” Your confusion must be clear on your face, because he chuckles. “Chara. You’re talkin’ about the evil brat who stabbed me in the chest so many times I’ve actually lost count. Why would I wanna know how they got a happy ending after all that?” His eyes have gone dark.

You wince. You want to argue, want to point out that Chara wasn’t evil, not really, that there were plenty of reasons and you understood so well, how could you not after being so close? Your determination is pushing at your lips, pushing you to speak when you normally wouldn’t but his eyes speak of sin on your back. If the consequence was your loss of words, then that made sense.

Sans lets out a sigh, reaching up to rub the back of his skull. “Sheesh, calm down, kid. It’s not that big of a deal. You should be happy, you won, right?” He flashes a grin, eyes opening to reveal light once more. “Cause that’s all that happened, isn’t it? You won. That's all that matters.”

You frown, signing slowly. _“But you always tell me there are consequences.”_

He shrugs.  “Well sure, I guess. But that's never mattered to you before, so why bother?”

You feel like you’ve been slapped. “I’m sorry,” You murmur, your already quiet voice hoarse from battle cries and calling out to those who had desperately needed it. “Sans, I’m sorry, I didn't--”

“Sorry for what?” He cut you off again, still smiling. “Nothing happened, right? So there's nothing to apologize for.” He shoves his hands into his pockets as he looks out at the sunrise. “Have you ever written anything before kid? Probably not, you’re like what, first grade? Let me explain something-- when you’re writing something, whether it's a report or a story or whatever, there's some editing that takes place. Some stuff doesn’t gel with the narrative, some stuff gets cut. In the end the stuff that gets edited out doesn’t matter, to the reader the final product is everything.”

You’re not sure where this is going. Your chest is aching, fingers twitching to release that ache in the form of words, but you don't.

“I was watching the whole time, so here's the story. Once upon a time, a kid climbed Mount Ebott and fell. They walked all the way through the Underground, making friends wherever they went. They were so good at it, they even hugged it out with the two lost souls of the Underground and helped them move on. Finally, they broke the barrier and now they get to live in the sun with their great big monster family. Nobody ever got hurt and everyone lived happily ever after.” He looks back to you, smiling blankly. “Does that sound right to you, Frisk?”

You shake your head. He raises one impossible brow. “What? You wanna tell everybody the whole story? You wanna tell your mom how many times you killed her? Wanna tell Undyne she's not the big hero she thinks she is?” He lets out a cold laugh as you flinch. “Well, you can if you want, but if you let my bro in on the secret that his belief doesn't mean a thing, I’m not gonna be too pleased with you.”

His words are harsh reminders against renewed friendships and laughter. They have you clutching at your chest, your eyes burning hot as you squeeze them shut. You shake your head, though he's right because Sans is always right. They all love you now, sure, but that would be very easy to change.

A skeletal hand pats you on the head, heavy but still gentle as it ruffles your hair. “Hey, c’mon, there's no need for that. Look, what's done is done, right? Take it from me kid, sometimes people are better off not knowing everything.”

 _“But… it's lying…”_ Your signs are slow, hesitant. 

“Eh. Necessary evil.” Sans pulls back, still smiling in a way that doesn't reach his eyes. “Look, what they don't know can't hurt em. And it oughta be the same for us. It never happened, so it shouldn't matter. Bygones, right?” He shrugs again. “When you’re older you’ll understand.”

This doesn't make any sense. It goes against everything he’s ever taught you, the one constant that made sense with the voices in your head. Your small fingers clench into fists as you fight against the words you want to sign, but they get past your lips anyway. 

“Do you hate me?”

He takes a bit too long to answer. When he finally does, it’s with that same pasted on smile. “Nah. I get why you did it and it wasn’t really your fault, so why would I hate you? I’m already over it.”

You’ve gotten good at figuring out when Sans is lying, but not good enough to know what to say to make him stop. His walls only came down when he wanted them to come down, even your own determination can only get you so far. You think you’d feel better if he’d just admit he was mad, because how couldn’t he be? There were consequences, after all.

“Just promise me this is it, yeah? The whole point of letting go is moving forward. No more big resets.” 

You nod empathetically. “I promise.”

He looks down at you like he wants to say something else. You think back to the conversation when this started so long ago, standing in the snow with your best friend. Your chest aches. You fight to ignore it.

“All right. Let’s get going, huh? Everybody's waiting for you.” He turns to walk in the wrong direction, as usual. He pauses after a few steps however, giving a low hum. “You’d better keep that promise kid. Remember, **I’M WATCHING YOU**.”

He vanishes in a burst of blue. Apparently he feels his point is dire enough to warrant you making the trek down the cliff side alone, not that you blame him. You bite your lip, then shake your head and begin to walk. You try to ignore the ache in your chest, the way this trek seems so much longer with only your lonely thoughts for company. You try to push that feeling aside because you can keep this promise, you can let go. 

After all this time, you’re still you.

___

**BANG!**

The entire house shook as Frisk woke, eyes widening in shock. They were on their feet in an instant, thin summer sheets cast aside, hands clenched into fists. It took a few seconds for the child to realize there were no attacks to dodge, a few seconds more focus beyond their pounding heart to catch the shouting outside their room. 

“Young lady, it is FOUR IN THE MORNING,  just WHAT do you think you're doing!?” Toriel’s voice was the closest to a roar that Frisk had ever heard.

“What does it LOOK like I’m doing!?” Undyne's voice was _definitely_ a roar, nearly unrecognizable in its anger.

“Undyne, put me down, you can’t do this!”

Alphys? Frisk’s brow furrowed in confusion as they threw open the door and rushed out to the living room. Undyne stood in the entryway holding a red-faced Alphys, barred from entry by an angry Toriel. Between the boss monster’s purple nightgown and Alphys’ overfilled laptop bag slung over Undyne's shoulder, it looked a little bit like Undyne was passing off a child to a babysitter. It would have been almost comical if it weren't for how tense everybody was.

“Look, I just need you to keep an eye on Al for a few hours. She's better than she was earlier but I’m still worried.” Undyne’s voice was rough, shaking with the effort it was taking to keep her voice under control.

“Don't talk about me like I’m not here!” Alphys snapped, squirming in her girlfriend's grip. “I-I told you, I’m _fine_!”

“No, you're not, babe,” Undyne growled. “You're real brave and I’m proud of you but I know you, you don’t get to lie when I just spent two hours talking you down!”

“So don’t _leave_!” Alphys’ voice was tinged with the telltale nasal muffle of somebody who had recently been crying.

Undyne shook her head as she finally set Alphys on her feet. “You know I have to, I can't let him get away with talking shit about you.”

“I don't need you to defend my honor!” Her girlfriend exclaimed, claws clenching into fists. “Y-you have to let me fight my own battles sometimes!” 

“Would you two _please_ stop having a lover’s spat on my doorstep and explain to me what the hell is going on here!?” Toriel interrupted, folding her arms before her.

Undyne scowled, crossing her arms as well. “Al tried to talk to Sans. She was perfectly fucking cordial, she was an absolute _saint_ , and he-” 

“I-it was my own fault!” Alphys interrupted bitterly. Her arms wrapped around herself as if she were trying to keep something in. “I said I’d listen and then I made it about me, just like I always do. If I hadn't been so _s-stupid_ -”

“Don't you dare,” Undyne said warningly, the fins of her ears and her gills flaring. “I read that whole conversation, you didn't do a damn thing wrong! He was being a complete ass!”

Her girlfriend whimpered at her side. “W-well yeah but he's not…” She paused to take a deep, shaky breath, squeezing her eyes shut. “He wasn’t wrong. After all the damage I did, I don’t have a right to… a-and I cause so much trouble because I can’t get it together! Even now I’m causing trouble, if I hadn’t started _c-crying_ …” She reached up to scrub at her face, palms pressing vainly against tears like a faulty dam. “Nonono, I have to _stop_ , noooo…I’m such a…” 

“Al, no...” Undyne pulled her close again, rubbing her back. “Don’t listen to that asshole, none of it’s true and you know it. Who cares about some flower? It’s in the past, he’s got no right to be bringing that shit up now!”

Toriel opened her mouth to speak, but was stopped by Frisk weaving past her legs and into the night air. “Oh no Frisk, it’s late, you should be--” She let out a somewhat frustrated sigh as as she watched the child promptly attach themselves to Alphys’ waist. 

The lizard monster let out a yelp of surprise, then blinked through her tears down at the human. “N-no, Frisk, please, you shouldn’t… you should be in bed, I-I shouldn't be waking you up with this…”

“Bed’s not as important as taking care of you!” Undyne huffed as she gently removed Alphys glasses, then took her girlfriend’s claws into her hands. She kissed at the tears on the lizard monster’s cheeks, getting a small, broken giggle from Alphys.

“U-Undyne no, please, I d-don’t deserve… you don’t understand…”

“No, what you don’t _deserve_ is for some bag of dicks to tear you down like that,” Undyne growled into the top of her scaly head. “He’s got a lot of shit to answer for and I’m done sitting around while that bastard wrecks my family.”

Toriel's eyes narrowed. “And what exactly do you intend to do about that? Sans is across the country.”

“Yeah, so I’m gonna go get him.”

“EXCUSE ME!?” Toriel sputtered. “I cannot possibly have heard that correctly!”

Undyne let out a huff. “Well I sure as hell didn't stutter!”

Toriel’s eye twitched, but Alphys spoke first.“Undyne, I told you, you _can’t_!” The lizard monster exclaimed as she pulled away from her girlfriend, eyes still teary. “He’s in _California_ a-and he can _teleport_ , you can't just run across the country until you find him!”

“How much you wanna bet?” Undyne's voice had gotten dangerously low as she set Alphys’ laptop bag down on the porch. “Somebody's gotta knock some sense into him, it may as well be me.”

Frisk reached out to tug the bottom of her tank top, shaking their head violently once they had Undyne's attention. The fish monster grimaced. “I didn't mean _literally_ , but he deserves a verbal ass beating and I’m gonna give it to him.”

“I cannot believe I’m hearing this,” Toriel hissed, a warning rumble of thunder in her voice. “Are you even listening to yourself, Undyne!? You have come to my home at four in the morning yelling so loudly you’ve likely woken the entire neighborhood! You came carrying your unwilling, distraught girlfriend, all so you can throw her to me while you take a _cross-country road trip_ to hunt down Sans!? Sans, your _friend_ , who I will remind you is evidently going through a difficult time and whom I have _expressly_ told you multiple times to _LEAVE ALONE_!?”

“Yeah, cause that's working out real well!” Undyne snapped. “He’s been gone for a day and look what’s fucking happened! Every time one of us checks in we just get a nice snapshot of how fast he’s crashing and burning! I’m done sitting back while he drags everybody down with him!” 

“This wouldn't happen if you'd give him _space_!” Toriel cried, throwing her paws up in frustration.

 “Right, so instead we just sit back and let him crash on his own? You’ve seen what this is doing to Paps-- hell, I’ve seen what it’s doing to _you_ , Toriel. ” Undyne shook her head as she turned for the road. “If nobody else is gonna _do something_ , I will!”

A heavy paw came down on the fish monster's shoulder. “Undyne, do not do this.” Toriel's voice was firm, measured, but there was a growl to it that matched the fire of Undyne's expression. “I understand your frustration and I assure you, I am not pleased with Sans’ actions either. Whatever he said to Alphys sounds inexcusable. But you are not thinking straight, not to mention Alphys needs you here. You will not be doing anyone any favors by chasing Sans down. Please, it is late, come inside and I’ll make some tea.”

“That’s always your answer,” Undyne murmured. “Stay here, wait it out. You complain about King Asgore’s lack of action all the time, but you’re no better.”

Toriel stiffened. “...What?”

“U-Undyne!” Alphys gasped. “You can't _say_ things like that!”

Undyne took the Queen’s shock as the opportunity to move the paw from her shoulder. “I’m sorry, your majesty, but it’s gotta be said. Asgore, the dogs, myself… we killed six human children. We could argue the morals of six lives versus the whole Underground forever and I don’t think anybody would ever really agree, even if their sacrifices _did_ finally get us outside. Hell, I don’t know what _I_ think about it anymore, which is a sorry thing to say as Captain of the Royal Guard.” The fish monster was doing dynamic stretches as she did spoke. She rolled her arms, her legs, her neck, loud cracks resounding through the air as she loosened up. “I was a part of that shit and I regret it. I think if I could take it back, I would. But at least we were doing something. What did you do, your majesty?”

“I tried to protect innocent souls who did not deserve that kind of suffering,” Toriel hissed, eyes narrowed. “Asgore could have taken one soul and ended this quickly. He didn’t, instead waiting for _children_ who had fallen down.”

“Right, cause it’s your job to say who deserves to die and who doesn’t!?” Undyne gave a harsh, barking laugh. “Real upstanding of you. Besides, you didn’t really do that, did you? The idea of war was wrong, sure. We were wrong about humans. But our people were dying underground, our people were losing hope, The only thing keeping them going was the hope that one day they’d see the stars. That didn’t matter to you. You didn’t do a thing to help them. You abandoned the throne and you abandoned them, you abandoned _us_.”

There was a flicker of bright pink flame. “You are out of line, _Captain_ ,” The former queen snarled, her claws and fangs bared. Her magic cast angry shadows across her face as she glared down at Undyne.

Frisk let out a gasp and moved to get between the two of them, but a flash of glowing blue spear stopped them. There was a wooden _crunch_ as the spear splintered into the front porch, blocking their passage. Alphys let out a yelp, grabbing Frisk's arm and pulling them back as the discussion continued.

“Me being outta line doesn’t make it less true,” Undyne hissed right back, sharp teeth clenched into an angry grimace, fins fanning out from her head to make her look bigger. Even without her armor, Undyne was still imposing. Her visible arms were a shadowed wall of muscle as her fist clenched around her spear, her hair billowing behind her in the night breeze. “You sit and you wait, Toriel. That’s what you always do. When the world hurts you, you withdraw. You say you did it to protect the kids, but when Frisk left, you didn’t go with them. You couldn’t handle the idea of facing your people, you couldn’t handle the idea of being at your kid’s side and watching them die. I get it, that’s hard, I get that you and the King have a ton of baggage and it’s not my place to get into it. But it doesn’t change the fact that when push comes to shove, you would rather step back than fight. I’m not like that. I _refuse_ to be like that.”

“I believed I was doing the right thing,” Toriel whispered, her voice crackling like her flames with barely contained rage. “If my people wanted so badly to go to war, if my people wanted so badly to hate children, I could not stay on the throne when I did not share those ideas. My grief blinded me. We were _all_ blind. I will not claim that what I did was actually right, but I cannot take my actions back now. All I can do is move forward and try to make wise decisions-- and I will tell you now, young lady, this is not a wise decision. All you are going to do is hurt somebody.” 

“Well he’s already hurt somebody, so I’d say that’s fucking justice,” Undyne murmured.

Frisk let out a whine of alarm, tugging at Alphys’ grip. They motioned wildly, trying to get attention for their hands, but all three monsters were too wrapped up in the tension to talk note.

“Undyne, Captain of the Royal Guard.” Toriel’s voice was cold, firm, weighted by an eternity of decrees and experience. “As the Queen of the Monsters, I _order_ you to stand down. Take your girlfriend, get inside and we will discuss this calmly and rationally, like adults. If you do not, I promise you, you will regret it.”

Undyne glared up at her, her entire body shaking. No one dared breathe. After a full thirty seconds, the fish monster shook her head. “Sorry Toriel, but you aren't Queen anymore.”

With those words she turned and darted away. Toriel let out a roar, slinging a burst of neon flame after Undyne. It was harmlessly dispersed in a flash of glowing blue spear as the fish monster cut across somebody's lawn, then vaulted over a fence and out of sight.

Toriel watched her go, claws clenching and unclenching at her sides. She was breathing hard and shaking, her fangs locked together in a snarl, but her focus was quickly taken by the blur of Frisk as they moved to run after Undyne.

“Oh no you don’t!” The boss monster yelled out as she caught Frisk's arm, then gently pulled them back.

“Let me go!” The child’s voice cracked as they tugged against Toriel's grip.

“Absolutely not!” Toriel exclaimed, scooping Frisk off their feet even as they continued to struggle. “One person running off when I have expressly told them _no_ is more than enough!”

Frisk shook their head violently. “They’ll fight! I don’t want them to fight, I don't want anybody else--”

“Y-you don't know that!” Alphys interrupted. “I mean, yes she’s mad, but I’m sure Undyne wouldn't…” She trailed off, clearly unable to even convince herself to finish the sentence.

“I have to stop them! I have to-- Undyne doesn't know what's going on, if she just _knew_ \--”

“Shhhh. Shhhh. Calm down, my child, it will be all right,” Toriel murmured as she pulled Frisk into a hug. “I know you want to go after her, but she is very fast. You won’t be catching her, especially in your pajamas.”

Frisk frowned, visibly irritated by the idea that they could not do something. _“But if I call her or text her, I can convince her! Alphys, can I use your phone!?”_ Their signs were quick, desperate as they reached out to the lizard monster.

Alphys shook her head. “I-I’m sorry, Frisk, she took my phone to use it to track Sans. I don't think she'll answer anyway. You know how she is-- if Undyne wants to do something, she can be almost as stubborn as you.”

 _“I have to try!”_ Frisk signed violently and motioned to be let down, still struggling in Toriel's grip. They opened their mouth to yell again. “Mom, put me down!”

“Frisk, stop this at once!” Toriel chided. “I understand your concern, but now is not the time or the place for this. Please, won’t you settle down for me?” She gazed down at Frisk pleadingly.

The child glared up at her for a moment, then gave a sigh, slumping in her grip. _“It’s not fair,”_ They signed as they pressed their cheek into white fur. 

“I know, sweetheart,” Toriel murmured as they rubbed Frisk’s back. “Come, let’s get you inside. You too, Alphys, I’m sure the neighbors have had enough of an eye full of family drama.” She shook her head as she turned back to the house.”What a mess. I cannot believe I let her push me to attack… in my nightgown and everything, honestly!”

“I-I’m so, _so_ sorry,” Alphys breathed as she shuffled through the door after the boss monster, laptop bag in hand. “I tried to stop her but she just wouldn't… ugh!” She reached up to swipe away another batch of tears. “If I had just… just been _better_ …”

Frisk shook their head as Toriel set them down. _“It’s not your fault, Alphys. You know how she is.”_

“That’s true,” Alphys gave a bitter chuckle.

“Let’s let it go for now, all right? It is late- or early, rather, and none of us are thinking rationally. I will-- oh, you have got to be kidding me, Papyrus just fixed this drywall!” Toriel exclaimed as she closed the front door, revealing an impressive crack from where Undyne had slammed it open.

“Oh noooo, I’m so sorry!” Alphys gasped.

“Well it's certainly not _your_ fault,” Toriel huffed as she traced her paw over the hole. “I know where Undyne will be at least _beginning_ to make this up to me, however. “

 _“Until she breaks it again,”_ Frisk signed.

“That is quite enough attitude from you, little one,” The boss monster tutted as she made her way toward the hallway closet. “I will get some pillows and blankets for the couch, you two should be sleeping. Especially you, Alphys, I am certain you haven't been to bed yet.”

“Assuming I can sleep,” Alphys muttered as she collapsed onto the couch. She smiled gratefully as Frisk sat down beside her, cuddling up immediately. After a moment, however, her smile fell. “Say Frisk… when I was talking with Sans, he went off on this whole rant about alternate timelines. You wouldn't happen to know what he meant by that, would you?”

Frisk stiffened at her side. _“I’m tired. Can we talk about it tomorrow?”_ They signed before curling up as if preparing to nod off right there.

Alphys’ brow furrowed. “Uh… s-sure.”

Setting up the pillows and blankets for sleep was a familiar enough affair. Toriel even plucked Frisk’s pillow from their room without question, tucking the child in as they curled up beside the lizard monster. 

“I apologize to both of you,” Toriel said as the two settled in. “I should not have allowed my emotions to rule me in that manner. I will have to apologize to Undyne as well.” She shook her head. “It will all seem better in the morning, do not worry you two. I love you both. Good night.”

Alphys and Frisk chorused responses before the lights were switched off. In the dark they exchanged smiles that might have been reassuring had they not known each other so well.

“I love you, Alphys.” Frisk whispered.

“Y-yeah… I love you too, Frisk. Good night.”

Neither of them would be sleeping.

\---

Sans didn't have to wait as long as he thought he would.

When he’d woken late that morning, he found himself dealing with a pounding headache to go alongside his regrets. This seemed to be a common theme lately and it left him with very little incentive to do anything besides roll over and sleep it off. But well, there were consequences, and in spite of everything there was still the part of him weighted to a hall of golden light and dust. Sans couldn't deny that-- his exhaustion only made it heavier, more insistent.

So Sans rose, then dragged himself to a wonderfully lackluster continental breakfast. He didn't feel particularly hungry, but he would be remiss to skip out on the full shit motel experience. Granted, said experience was a little off. There was no Papyrus to amaze with slimy scrambled eggs wedged into squares by the container they were served in, no Toriel to frown disapprovingly over gray, floppy bacon, no Undyne to wolf down an entire plateful of said floppy bacon, no Frisk to sway from pocketing twelve different complimentary packages of jam. But there was plenty of ketchup to douse the slimy eggs in and that was something. Besides, bacon was still bacon, no matter how floppy.

So Sans ate, checked out, then considered his options. He could stay where he was, but California was in an endless drought and that just seemed like cheating. Plus, he’d be waiting awhile. Home was not an option and shortcuts to places he’d never been were a gamble he couldn't afford. That left only a few options and of those, the choice was obvious.

The seaside town they’d all visited on vacation a few months back was exactly as Sans remembered it. Nice place, just the right amount of ma and pop shops with just a hint of touristy charm. If it were a different situation, Sans would consider buying a cheesy T-shirt, but he had business to attend to.

He got himself some appropriately overpriced boardwalk fries (it would have been a crime to visit and _not_ do so), then took a shortcut up to some cliffs a few miles down the shore. It was accessible for the right monster, but not an easy trek for an unlucky sightseer. Then again, Sans doubted there’d be much in the way of tourists today, judging by the gray haze of the sky and the way it seamlessly faded into the horizon. Not quite a storm front, just gray enough to be unappealing. Go figure. 

So Sans waited, listening to the gulls cry out to each other over the gray waters. He waited an hour or two and was just considering popping back down for more boardwalk fries when he heard the approaching footsteps.

“Y’know, if you’d chosen this place as your getaway yesterday, you coulda saved me a lot of trouble.”

Sans shrugged, letting his gaze linger on the water for a bit longer. “Going to a place we’ve all been before kinda defeats the purpose.” With those words he rose to his feet, brushing loose pebbles from his shorts before turning to face his visitor. “I’m only here cause I had a hunch you’d be stupid enough to come after me, but I was really hoping I’d be wrong. Did you actually run all the way here or did you at least take a bus for some of it?”

Undyne scowled at him, her red hair billowing in the sea breeze, panting a bit heavily but otherwise looking no worse for wear. “If I’d taken a bus you’d have teleported before I made it halfway. Besides, I’m faster than any dumb human thing.”

“Would you say you gotta go fast?” Sans supplied with a grin, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Shut up, Sans.”

The two stood in silence for a minute, simply staring each other down. The gulls yelled overhead to the surf crashing against the rocks.  The wind rustled through the stubborn patch of trees growing from the cliff.

“You look like shit,” Undyne finally growled, looking him up and down.

“Y’know, for somebody who is apparently a cartoon character capable of marathoning across multiple state lines, you don't,” Sans observed. “Did you pick up some Gatorade on the way? Replenish those electrolytes? I just gotta know for science. “

“I’m _fine_ ,” Undyne ground out through clenched teeth. “You're talking real big for somebody who's been missing for almost two days.”

“What can I say? Calling people on their reckless, irresponsible bullshit is what I do best,” Sans shrugged. “You just happen to be great at irresponsible bullshit. Great job, Undies.”

“What the fuck is your _problem_!?” Undyne snapped, webbed hands balling into fists. “You’ve always been an asshole but this is ridiculous even for you.”

Sans snorted. “My problem is you people won't stay out of my shit. I thought skipping town would clue you all in, but noooooo, as usual I’m the only one with a brain. Figuratively, anyway.” He reached up to tap against his own skull, smirking at the resulting hollow noise.

Undyne rolled her eye. “Oh yeah, we’re real dumb for giving a crap about our _friend_. Are you even listening to yourself!?”

“Dunno, nobody else seems to be.”

“Well you aren’t exactly an open book, Sans!” The fish monster exclaimed, gesturing wildly with webbed hands. “You won't _talk_ to anybody, all you do is drop cryptic bullshit about timelines when you're not tearing people down or pointing demon lasers in the kid’s face!”

“It's none of your business. It's my crap, I’ll deal with it. I always do.”

“Looks more like running away from where I’m standing.” Undyne glared at him for another moment, then let out a long breath. “I didn't come here to fight, even if you do deserve a punch in the face. There's gonna be fucking _words_ after what you said to Al. But I’m not leaving until you come back with me.” 

Sans laughed at that. “Wow, with that kind of incentive, how could I refuse?”

“Everybody’s worried sick about you, asshole! The kid’s been jumpy as all hell. Paps keeps asking when you're coming home-- and great job on that, by the way, I’m pretty sure he only fell for your crap because he can't stand the idea that you might be lying to him. Alphys has barely slept, she's been so busy tracking your sorry butt. It’s all Toriel can do to keep everyone together, and meanwhile you're just off bumming it out in California? What the fuck, dude!”

“And I’m sure you literally running cross country really helped,” Sans pointed out. “How _is_ Alphys, by the way? Must be just peachy if you felt fine leaving her alone after the shit I said.”

“Alphys is _fine_ , no thanks to you!” Undyne snarled, all sharp teeth and tensing muscles. “You’ve got some real fucking nerve… you wanna know why she fucking messaged you? It’s because she took the time to defend you!” 

Sans blinked in surprise. “What?”

That got a snort from Undyne. “She didn’t tell you, of course. Yeah, she gave Pap and I a real talking to. Said we were pushing too hard and weren’t being fair to you cause you’re depressed.”

The skeleton bristled. “I’m not--”

“Bullshit you’re not,” The fish monster cut him off. “Now that Al’s mentioned it, I shoulda noticed. You aren’t reacting the same way she does, but there were signs you were dealing with a lot. I shoulda realized. I’m sorry man, that’s my bad. Pap did notice, he was just trying to help and I egged him on. I’m… _pretty bad_ at recognizing that just because something works for me doesn’t mean it works for everybody. So I’m… you know, I’m sorry.” She let out a heavy breath as she reached up to scratch the back of her head, averting her gaze to the sea.

The sudden apology was completely at odds with the swirling clouds up above. “I… uh….” Sans’ face twitched as he fought on reflex to shove a grin back in place. A weak laugh bubbled up from the loosening pressure in his ribs. “...Well, I got _tibia_ honest, this wasn’t what I was expecting… you’re really sending me some mixed messages here, Undies.”

“Stop calling me that,” Undyne grumbled. “And yeah, I get it, I was pushing too hard. But that was for earlier, this is different. You’re not just hurting yourself, you’re hurting our friends, Sans. Alphys went to bat for you and you reamed her. You being depressed doesn’t excuse that!”

“Who says I wanted it to?” Sans muttered.

“Tch,” The fish monster grimaced, clearly disturbed by this lack of fight. “You should come home then. Paps and I’ll stop pushing, we’ll give you your space.”

“That's a pretty irresponsible move for the Captain of the Royal Guard, don't ya think?” Sans asked. “After all, what's stopping me from tearing into everybody else? Might as well put me down before mean ol’ Sans triggers your girlfriend again.”

“Stop. Bringing. It up!” Undyne hissed through clenched teeth. “You’re my _friend_ , Sans, even if you are being a royal pain. Being a dick once and awhile doesn't mean you get kicked out, it means we call out your bony butt and deal with it! Isn't that what you always do for everyone else?”

The skeleton shrugged. “Sure. So lemme pass judgment on myself: Sans the Skeleton, you, sir, are a worthless asshole. Verbal levels of violence are through the fucking roof and let's not even get started on everything else. I hereby sentence you to banishment five-ever. The end.” 

“You don't get to judge _yourself_ , dumbass, that's not how it works!” Undyne snapped. “And you're not worthless, I wouldn't have come if you were.”

“Nah, you came cause you're pissed at me, don’t pretend this is anything else,” Sans drawled. “You’re here cause I hurt the people you _do_ care about. We both know you're closer with Paps, I’m just here by extension. I’m amazed you can be bothered to remember my name.  So let's stop with the heart to heart bullshit and focus on what you're good at, huh?”

“Stop it,” Undyne’s voice was flat, cold. “Just stop it and come home. I miss you, okay?”

“Hooboy, you really sold that one. Really reached out to me, made me feel something warm right here.” Sans snickered, pressing a hand to his chest.

“What, is that what you want, some sappy bullshit!? Fine, here you go, I miss your stupid puns, I miss how much Paps hates them, I miss getting on your case about Grillby’s I miss you trying to put ketchup on everything because you’re gross as hell!” Undyne’s words came out in a rushed, breathless rant, as if she were trying to push them out before she could change her mind . “I miss the stupid arguments about anime, I miss that you can’t be bothered to remember the characters names, I miss making fun of bad movies with you, I miss not being so goddamn _mad_ at you!”

Her words had Sans physically stumbling back in surprise, eye sockets widening. He could admit he hadn’t expected that. Undyne wasn’t one for complimenting him or admitting to kind feelings, it really wasn’t how their friendship worked. Had it been any other time, this would have been a red letter day. But there was still the lingering tension of his words to Alphys, and well, there had to be consequences. The part of him stuck in that golden hall insisted. 

“...Wow. I’m impressed, Undies, I really am.” The skeleton spoke over the crash of the waves below. “It’s great that you care and all, but I’m serious about not going back. You saw what happened the other night, I coulda killed the kid. There's a lot going on with me and I can't promise I won't hurt somebody else while I deal with it.” 

“But you're _not_ dealing!” Undyne snapped. “I may not be the best with emotional bullshit, but even I know you never deal with stuff! You are _literally_ running away from your problems, you dumbass!”

Sans shrugged again. “So? I’m running away from _my_ problems, not yours, and that’s my choice. Trust me, it’s better this way. You’re all better off without me hanging around like some kind of emotional time bomb. So go catch a bus home and tell everybody else that. You might wanna hurry before I say something else shitty, I’ve been getting pretty good at burning bridges.” 

“You gonna tell that to Paps?” Undyne asked. “You can’t be ‘looking for a job’ for months.”

 “I’ll figure it out.”

“You’re supposed to get Frisk to school on Tuesdays.”

“Guess somebody’s gonna have to change their schedule then.”

Undyne let out a snarl of frustration. “Uuuuuuggggh! Damnit Sans, this is stupid! Just come home or I’ll _make you_ come home!”

Sans gave a snort. “You’ll _make me_? How are you planning on doing that? Did you forget I can teleport? You’re not making me go anywhere Undies, unless you’re planning on taking me out for some _punch_.”

“Not a bad idea with how you’ve been acting,” Undyne growled. “Maybe I’ll just clock you and drag your butt home! You’d sure as hell deserve it!” 

That got a hollow laugh from Sans. “Oh yeah, that sounds like a great idea, hit the guy half your size. That’s our hero, the great Undyne! Captain of the Royal Guard, Hero of the Monsters, Puncher of Children and Tiny Skeletons! Granted, you couldn't beat a kid, so I’m outta your league anyway “

“You wanna fucking _bet_!?” Undyne exclaimed, body tensing like a spring. “You’re right, you’re half my size and a whole lot less of everything else. I’ve seen you fight, one good hit and I’ll be dragging your tiny ass home!”

“Sure, assuming you can land that hit,” Sans pointed out with a smirk.

“Of course I can!” Undyne declared. “You’re a wimp, you couldn’t run a mile if I lit an actual fire under your ass! My one fucking problem is you’ll teleport away like a goddamn coward!”

Sans’ smirk became a full on grin, eyes going dim. “Well, I’m still here, aren’t I?”

Undyne took a deep breath, hands shaking at her sides. After a moment she stilled them, clenched them into fists. Her ponytail fluttered in the wind, the waves crashed below her. Even in this moment, with her tanktop disheveled, boots worn thin from an absurd run, she managed to look suitably dramatic. Sans couldn’t help but muse she always _looked_ the part of the hero, even in something messy like this.

“Just remember you asked for this, dickbag,” Undyne finally said. With those words she charged, crossing the short distance between them in the blink of an eye. Sans side-stepped her first swing with ease, then ducked beneath the second one. Her kick very nearly got him, but he leaped to avoid it, landing several feet away with his hands still in his pockets.

Undyne gaped at him-- well, like a fish, her jaw hanging loose, ears fanning out in surprise. “What. The. Fuck.”

“What, you think I’m just gonna stand there and take it?” Sans snickered.

“How-- what the hell, Sans!?” Undyne sputtered. “How did you _do_ that!?”

“It’s called moving. I do it sometimes.”

“No, you don’t!?” The fish monster cried, reaching up to put a hand to her head. “Like… I’ve seen you and Papyrus train, you’ve never--”

“Did you really think I was trying?” Sans asked, cocking his head to the side. “C’mon Undies, I thought you knew me better than that. I don’t try at anything else, why would my job be any different?”

“You weren't even trying during our freaking _job interview_!?” Undyne's voice was an angry screech.

“Nah. Didn't see the point.” Sans shrugged again. “I mean, it was just a sentry position, right? The whole reason I took it was so I could sleep on the job, it’s not exactly high intensity work.” 

“You were _supposed_ to be our first line of defense if a human ever came through the Underground!” Undyne shrieked in frustration.

“Yeah, well, we all make mistakes. I’m kinda impressed how many of yours seem to involve me. Weren’t you supposed to be punching me and dragging me home?” Sans asked cheerfully.

The fish monster let out another snarl and charged again, becoming a squall of swinging fists and kicks. Sans dodged every one with ease, continuing his commentary as he did so. “Maybe you could hit me if you put a little _backbone_ into it!” Sans chirped as he ducked beneath an elbow jab. “Y’know, this is kinda _beneath me_ ,” He drawled as he leaped over a kick. “I didn’t know you were into _swing_ , Undyne!”

“Stop making shitty puns when I’m trying to beat your ass!” Undyne snapped as her boot slammed into the spot where Sans had been.

“And miss out on this quality entertainment? I don’t think so!” Sans chuckled as he took several quick steps back, stopping when his back hit stone. “Look, it’s not my fault you’re not taking this seriously. Here I thought you were gonna put up a fight.” 

“I didn’t want this to be a fight, you ass!” Undyne insisted as she threw another blow. Sans sidestepped it with ease and her knuckles hit the cliff behind him, shattered  the spot in a burst of pebbles and dust. 

“Y’know, you keep saying that, but your argument doesn’t have a lot of _punch_ to it,” The skeleton hummed. “I know you, Undyne, you’d always rather fight than talk it out. It never goes well for you, but y’know, I can respect the stupidity of it.”

“The hell is that supposed to mean!?” Undyne demanded as she dropped down low, swiping her leg out to catch Sans behind the knees.

“I’d tell you, but I think it might go _over your head_!” Sans called out as he hopped over her and several feet away. “Don’t worry about it, we both know who the brains in your relationship is. Here’s a hint: it’s not you.”

“Fuck off!” Undyne shouted as she charged once more.

Sans gave a fake yawn as he dodged yet again. “I thought you wanted me to come with you? I mean, I can always just teleport away, we can stop this at any time. But you wouldn’t want that, right? Can’t ever solve this peacefully, not when your girlfriend’s honor is on the line. Admit it, you were hoping it’d go down like this the second you saw Alphys cry.”

That was the final straw, apparently. Undyne let out a roar as a spear materialized in her hands with a flash of light, flinging it in his direction. Sans automatically threw up several bones to block, both attacks dissipating in bursts of magic.

“Whoa there Undies, calm down!” Sans exclaimed with a hard laugh. “Wouldn’t want you wasting those big girl attacks on a loser like me!”

“You’re the one who keeps being a dick!" Undyne howled as she threw out a hand, sending several spears raining in Sans’ direction. “I take back what I said about you being a wimp, but I’m doubling down on everything else! You want my full attention, you’ve got it now, asshole!” 

“Wow Undies, you’ve really got me on the rocks!” Sans said as he leaped out of the way, landing on a stony outcropping. “At this rate I might actually have to do something besides dodge! Too bad you can’t just _hit me_ and turn me green, this would be a hell of a lot easier then!”

“How. The FUCK. Are you doing this!?” The fish monster roared as she twirled her spear in the air, sending a volley of pointed magic from every direction.

Sans dodged several but was finally forced to teleport from the one coming for his back, appearing several feet away in a burst of blue and laughter. “It’s just math. I see where your attacks are gonna be and I just make sure I’m not there. I’d say it’s not hard, but I guess that’s being unfair to you. Like I said, you’re not the smart one, Undyne. Not in this timeline, not in the other ones, not ever.” 

“What the hell are you even talking about!?” Undyne grunted out as drew in close, her strikes a whirlwind of blue light, her hair trailing behind her like a blazing comet. “This doesn’t make any sense, Paps can’t do this and I’ve never seen you do this before. What _are you_ , Sans!?”

Sans gave a snort as he popped in and out of place, teleporting just a few feet away from each blow only to have to move seconds later to avoid another stab. “You don’t actually think I’m gonna give away my tragic backstory while we’re fighting, do you? Calm down Undies, this isn’t an anime.”

“What the hell do you mean when you keep talking about timelines!?” Undyne asked as she continued her charge. “You kept mentioning it to Al, what are you _talking_ about?”

“You wouldn’t get it,” Sans shrugged as he teleported once more to get some distance. The motion of his shrug sent a rippling wave of bones bursting from the rocky ground. 

“Fucking try me!” Undyne called out as she leaped over the attack, cresting the wave with no trouble. 

Sans snorted. “All right, let’s start with a fun fact: I’ve seen you die. A lot.”

His words had Undyne skidding to a stop for a moment, her grip loosening on her spear as she stared at him. “...What?”

“Bit of a shock, right? I was shocked too, the first time. Who’d have thunk it? Undyne, the Heroine of the Underground, killed by some kid with ballet slippers? I wouldn’t have believed it if I didn’t see it with my own eye sockets.” Sans murmured. “It didn’t happen right away, of course. You won at first. You won a lot, actually, and I kinda thought that might be it. Before the kid started actually fighting, you’d already killed them dozens of times. I hoped maybe you could stop ‘em… maybe you could avenge my brother. I made a promise, but you were clean, so I thought maybe, _maybe_ Undyne can save this place. Pretty stupid, huh?”

Undyne’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Sans, what are you even talking about?”

“There are other timelines where things go differently. A lot differently. Timelines where Frisk-- well, it’s not _really_ Frisk but it also is, it’s complicated and stupid. The point is, there are alternate realities to this one, alternate realities where everything goes wrong and you step up to defend the Underground from a goddamn murderer. All the other monsters in the underground don’t have a violent bone in their body, but you… you stood for everybody’s hopes and dreams, you did everything I never could. But in the end that didn’t matter, cause you started to lose. First it was close, but with every fight they’d get faster, they’d get better and you’d die quicker and quicker. But it never mattered.” Sans let out a sigh and shook his head, looking away from her to the sea.

There was silence for a moment, save for the crash of the waves and the wind in the trees. “That doesn’t… that doesn’t make any sense. Frisk would never… you’re making this shit up, you’ve gotta be!” Undyne shook her head violently, as if trying to shake the thought away.

Sans gave a dark laugh. “I wish. Al and I would tell you not to go and it wouldn’t mean a damn thing, you’d still march straight to your death every time.”

More silence.

“...And you just let it happen?” Undyne finally whispered.

“What?” Sans looked back to her, blinking in surprise.

“You said… you said you watched… God Sans, I just saw you do shit I didn’t even think was possible! You’re some kind of badass and when push came to shove, you just sat back and watched me fight to the death!?” Undyne’s voice rose in intensity as she spoke, a storm rumbling in her tone.

The skeleton let out a breath as if he’d just been punched in the chest. “I tried to stop you.”

“Stop _me_!?” Undyne was incredulous as she began marching toward him, the very picture of the vengeful heroine he'd described. “Why didn’t you try to _help me_!? If Frisk or-- whatever they were, I refuse to believe that kid could have done that --if that thing was going around killing everybody, if it killed _Paps_ , how could you just sit back and let it fucking happen!?”

“I tried to stop you… I tried to stop _them_.” Sans hated the way his voice shook, hated how weak it sounded. Wasn’t this what he had wanted? He’d wanted consequences, here they were, but his arguments were coming anyway, growing in strength with his voice. “I tried to stop them, okay? But if I killed them, Papyrus would get upset, Tori would get upset, no matter what I did somebody got hurt, so why fucking bother!? All that happens is people get hurt and they die! It was fucking pointless, what more do you want from me!?”

“At least they died doing the right thing! At least if they’d gotten upset it would have been because you did the right thing!” Undyne’s voice was thunder as she reached out to grab the front of Sans’ jacket. Amazingly, her fist caught. Undyne jerked the skeleton off the ground so she could snarl in his face, her words as sharp as her teeth. “That’s your fucking problem Sans, shit happens and instead of dealing, you just decide you’re gonna give up! Maybe I die in all your stupid timelines, but at least I fucking _try_!”

Sans blinked up at her in shock for a moment, hanging limply from her grasp. Then he grinned, eyes dimming.

“Try this, then.”

He vanished from her grasp in a flash of blue, reappearing a good distance away. He reached out with his left hand, clenched his fist, and tugged Undyne’s soul _down_. The fish monster let out a cry as she found herself tumbling to the earth, face slamming into the rock. Twenty blasters burst into existence, the pop of displaced air the only warning before jaws unhinged and a hail of raw magic rained down on the cliffside.

When the light cleared, Undyne had rolled her way to her knees, grunting in pain as she clutched at a burn on her side. In spite of this, however, she was grinning. “That’s more fucking _like it_!” She crowed as she summoned another spear, using it to leverage herself away from the bones erupting at her feet.

She flung the weapon, then let out a yelp as the weight of her soul tugged her to the ground once again. She still managed to roll to avoid the hailstorm above her, but this movement meant she didn’t quite make it to her feet to avoid the ones coming from below. Several bones cracked into her already injured side, drawing a gasp of shock and pain. Undyne’s arm moved to shield the wound, frowning as she glanced down to see it glowing a sickly purple. “Shit, that burns… what the hell?”

“Huh,” Sans murmured as he watched her struggle. “Didn’t think the blaster would affect you as much as it did. Souls get heavy depending on your poor decisions, but you shouldn’t have _that_ much karma, your LOVE’s not…” He blinked, snapping his fingers. “Wait, that’s right… you’ve killed before, haven’t you?”

Undyne froze, her expression darkening. “Yeah. I killed two. The one with the tutu and the one with the gun. I’m not proud of it but it had to be done.”

His eye burned.

Sans gave a thoughtful hum as he leaned back on his heels. “See, there’s your problem, you’re still holding onto the idea that it was righteous. Even after all this time. That’s _interesting_.” As he leaned back, a torrent of bones rushed toward Undyne.

His opponent leaped out of the way, hitting the ground with a grunt and then ducking down to avoid two blasters coming from opposite directions. “You remember the tutu kid! They were covered in dust, I had to stop them! And don’t get me started on our little sharp shooter, he’s the one who cost me my fucking _eye_!” She punctuated this with a rain of spears, bursts of brilliant blue zipping through the air like lightning.

“You think that excuses it?” Sans asked as he ducked first to one side, then the other, then took a shortcut to avoid the three spears that seemingly changed their mind midair. “Sheesh Undies, don’t you know an eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind?” He called out as he flung out his left hand and _pushed_.

“Not if you _kill_ the little-- ack!” Undyne’s boots kicked in the air for a moment before she found herself slammed into the trunk of a tree. She struggled against the blue weighting her to it, very nearly pushing herself free. Her struggles ceased immediately, however, when she glanced up into the flickering mouths of a dozen blasters.

“See, here’s the thing,” The skeleton spoke calmly over the crash of the waves below as he walked toward her. “We can debate the ethics of a life versus a life all day. After all, without those six human souls, we’d still be underground, and self defense is important. But a life is still a life, Undyne, regardless of how shitty it is. That weighs on you. It _has_ to, because if it doesn’t, that’s where I come in.” 

“Who says it doesn't weigh on me?” Undyne hissed. She fought to lift her shaking arm up, then slammed her palm against her chest. “You’ve got my soul right here, you can see for yourself! I may not mope about it, but that doesn't mean I forgot about it, not for a second!”

“Sure,” Sans said as he came to a stop a few feet away. “But do you regret it?”

Undyne regarded him coldly for a moment. Then she shook her head. “Never. I did what I had to.”

“Heh. Thought so.”

The blasters fired.

Undyne gave a guttural, agonized _scream_ as the world became a flash of angry, burning light. The scent of ozone and charred wood hit Sans in a wave and he thought for an instant that he might have overdone it. The weight in his magic felt lighter, worryingly so. Undyne might have deserved this on some level, but he had some sympathy-- she’d never been the type to back down even when she should have. 

Then Sans felt that weight tug against his hold, hard, and he leapt back just in time to avoid the blue spear that had been flung through the clearing smoke. Three more jabs came at him, lightning strikes from the clouds, and very abruptly Undyne was in his face, her fourth blow stopped by a hastily erected wall of bone. “Fine, I’m sorry!” The fish monster cried as she shattered through them, swinging again into open air as Sans teleported. “Look, I _know_ I made the right decision, but it’s not like I don’t wish things had gone differently, okay? Knowing what I know about humans now, I wish I…” She took a deep breath, then shook her head. “What am I supposed to say? We had to get out, Sans. You know that!”

The skeleton shrugged from some distance away. “You’re not wrong, it just doesn’t mean you’re right. Then again, that probably doesn’t matter to you, it usually doesn’t.” 

“Stop saying things like that!” Undyne roared. She charged again, leaping to avoid the wave of bones at her feet, then gave a grunt as he soul pulled her down _hard_ onto the platform that had materialized over them. “Stop rubbing it in my face that you know everything! I get it, okay? There’s all this magical bullshit with timelines and there’s a bunch of stuff I don’t know! Hell, I’m probably never _gonna_ get because you love being so fucking cryptic!” She scrambled up to another platform, a wave of bones snapping after her boots like a closing jaw. “Stuff that never happened and stuff that _did_ happen back then, it doesn’t matter anymore! You gotta let it go, man!”

“Wrong~!” Sans sing-songed as bones thundered down from above. “I forgot how dense you can be.” Undyne let out a cry of pure frustration and pain as this volley hit, the force of it sending her tumbling to the ground. Sans watched her struggle to her feet in time to catch a wave of bones from below. A series of heavy _thuds_ rang through the air as they struck with bruising force, sent Undyne falling yet again. He was hitting hard, he was hitting much too hard, and the way his breath was already coming out in quick puffs was a bad sign. He didn’t have the magic for this, but something within him was burning and just wouldn’t stop. “So there’s a saying, right, history repeating itself if you don’t reflect on it? I’m just pointing it out because _once again_ , you’re telling me this doesn’t matter.” 

He jerked Undyne into the air, then sent her slamming back down. Sans sent attack after attack her way, volleys of bones erupting from above and below. Femurs cracked her across the back, jabbed into her leg before dissipating in a burst of magic. Blasters roared to life and circled around her, set the air aflame as Sans ranted over them. Magic poured out of him like his words, hot, angry, desperate for a target that deserved them. “This whole thing is about consequences. That’s all it’s ever gonna be about. Your actions matter, regardless of whether they had a permanent effect, and I’m done acting like they don’t. Letting go doesn’t change the fact that two kids are dead because of you. Letting go isn’t gonna change the fact that you killed Frisk. Letting go doesn’t make all the shit you’ve said about me over the past couple days go away. You gotta answer for it.”

Undyne stumbled away from the a scorched patch of rock, gasping for breath. She swallowed hard, scales coated in a sheen of sweat and soot as she glared up at Sans. “How much am I supposed to answer for it!? I get it, okay, it was wrong. I admitted that. Al admitted the stuff she did in the lab was wrong. Frisk…” She let out a cough as she clutched at her side. “I don’t know what’s going on there. Obviously we’ve got some shit to discuss. But we _are_ accepting consequences or whatever. You’re the one who’s not. You’re the one who’s wrecking everything and just teleporting away like it’s no big deal. Why don’t we talk about _that_ , huh?” 

Sans blinked, cocking his head to the side as sweat dripped from his skull. Then he let out a breathless laugh. “Fair enough.” There was a blink of blue before he appeared in front of the fish monster, all black pitted eyes and a wide, terrible smile. Skeletal fingers reached out to grab the front of Undyne's tank top. She summoned a spear on reflex, pulling back, but wasn’t quick enough.

“ **Let's talk**.”

There was a flash of blue. Then they were airborne, the world around them an endless expanse of sky and sea. A gull called from nearby. Undyne let out a shout of alarm, swinging out with her spear. It grazed just past Sans’ left side, a tearing noise sounding through the clouds as it shredded through the back of his jacket, but did nothing to stop him from shoving her away by the blue of her soul. “AAAAAAAAAAAAHHH! SANS WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!?" 

“Yeah, this is good.” Sans shoved his hands into the pockets of his now torn jacket. The wind buffeted his hood and his shorts, had Undyne's ponytail whipping around her like flames as several platforms burst into existence around them.

“SANS, GET US DOWN!”

“Nah.” They both dropped, Sans landing on a platform as Undyne slammed into a newly summoned volley of bones on the way down.

“So, let's take this conversation to _new heights_!” Sans called over the roar of the wind and the clatter of his latest attack. He watched Undyne reel in the air from another hit to the chest, then right herself by catching the edge of a platform. “You know how you’ve killed two kids? Yeah, I’ve killed more. A _lot_ more. The only difference is it never stuck.”

Undyne grunted as she readied her stance, palm pressed to the platform below her. Spears flickered to life in the clouds, then shot down at Sans in lighting strikes. The skeleton made several quick shortcuts, only just barely slipping into the safe points in the sky as he continued to speak. “I’ve killed Frisk so many times I’ve lost count,” He said, words coming out in a harsh breath due to a sudden stitch in his side. He ignored it. “Sure, they were being controlled by somebody, sure it was after they’d killed the whole Underground, that doesn’t change it. I wanted them dead and a part of me wishes they’d _stayed_ dead even now. I’m still so fucking mad at them and they’re a _child_! How’s that for fucked up?”

He snapped his fingers and a cacophony of bones thundered in Undyne’s direction. The two exchanged a flurry of blows, bone, blaster and spear splitting open the skies as their battle raged. Undyne jumped from platform to platform, just barely avoiding the gnashing waves of bone magic above and below, using her spears as leverage when platforms failed her. She leaped to avoid a femur meant to run her through, pushing off a nearby platform with the butt of her spear before flinging a volley toward her opponent.

Sans kept up, though it was with less ease than before-- no ground to stand on meant he was teleporting instead of dodging. This was a waste of magic he couldn’t afford, even with the platforms they were still dropping toward the Earth at a concerning rate. In spite of this, he continued to speak over their titan clash, unable to stop. His eye burned, the stitch on his side screamed with every breath, but his words were fire and it all had to go.“Those times when I killed Frisk? That’s nothing compared to everything else! All the times where they killed Pap, where they killed you, and I just let it happen cause I was too fucking _depressed_ to stop them!? You were mad earlier cause I didn’t help you, wanna know what it takes for that to happen? The whole damn Underground has to _die_ , and even then the only reason I fought at all was because the world might end and I was pretty pissed off. And hell, I couldn’t even stop them, I still lost half the time!” 

“You’re fucking kidding me!” Undyne was incredulous as she kicked off a platform and swung at him, seemingly not even caring when Sans teleported away. “You’re telling me about fucking consequences and beating my ass for killing the kids when you _let us all die_?!”

The skeleton's bitter laughter rang through the gray clouds as he landed on another platform. “Yeeeeep, I’m a hypocrite!” The words were hot like his dwindling puffs of breath, sweat pouring from his skull-- he wasn’t used to this kind of physical activity. His insides were boiling, black bile spewing from a rotting space in his ribs like his dwindling magic. “That’s not even getting started on everything else. The times I lied, the times I didn’t keep my promise to Tori and killed the kid before I was supposed to, the times I wasn’t there and I shoulda been. That shit I said to Al is just one more mark on the rap sheet!”

“If that’s true, then why the fuck are we doing this!?” Undyne demanded over the rush of the wind, heedless of the ground drawing closer and closer. “Where do you get off telling me about consequences when you apparently deserve them more than anybody!?” 

Sans smiled through sweat and exhaustion, his eye burned like the sun. “Because no one else can do this.”

With those words a halo of blasters burst to life around them, jaws unhinging and releasing a scream of burning light. Undyne let out a cry of pain that was cut short by a hail of bone from all directions. Femurs caught her stomach, her legs, cracked her across the face, sent her tumbling through the air. One blow caught her side and there was an unfortunate _‘crunch’_ underscored by her agonized shout, something had broken for sure. Undyne curled in on herself out of reflex, her blue shoulder blades doing nothing to shield her from the yawning maws of the blasters above and below her. The world went white.

When the blast cleared, Undyne dropped like a rock. Her singed ponytail trailed behind her as she fell, body limp as a ragdoll. Sans watched her drop with grim satisfaction, then felt that quickly turn to numb horror as he glanced down.

The ground was too close.

“Shit!” Sans jerked his fist upward, slowing her descent with sudden bursts of magic like pumping the brakes on a car. This was barely a mercy. He had slowed Undyne down, sure, but she still hit the cliff _hard_.  Rock shattered beneath her, flying in every direction in a cloud of dust. The skeleton popped into existence on the ground as soon as it cleared, knees very nearly buckling under his own weight. The stitch in his side roared as he rushed to where she lay.

“Undyne!? Undyne, are you okay!?” He wheezed as he gently moved her with his magic, rolling her onto her back. Red hair fell in strands from her ponytail, cascaded in waterfalls down the sides of her face. Sea green magic dripped from her mouth, leaked in pinpricks from spots where her scales were matted and marred by thick bruising. Her gills flared for breath but the soul in his grip felt faint.

Fuck, Sans had overdone it, he’d overdone it so bad. If it were anyone else, they’d be dead, and sure he could claim she’d kept coming at him but that wasn’t an excuse, not after everything he’d said. He could claim all he wanted that he hadn’t wanted to hurt Undyne, but the results of his intent said otherwise. He--

“T-that all you got?” Undyne coughed out, forcing a sharp-toothed smile. “Damn, you’re such a fucking wimp…”

Sans’ eye flared in surprise and he let out a panicked giggle on reflex as he watched her sit up, wincing in sympathy as she clutched at her abdomen. “Yeah, well, you know me. I can only only do one point of damage, you know?” He murmured, scrubbing the sweat from his skull. His vision was blurring, flickering in and out. His right eye was definitely gone, it was a miracle the working one wasn’t temporarily burnt out as well.

“Oh yeah, _that’s_ what it feels like,” The fish monster let out a barking cough as she spat liquid magic onto the cliff face. Her hair stuck to the sweat on her face, a matted, red mess mixing with the sea green of her magic. “God, you’re an asshole. But you’re also a badass.”

“You too, Undyne.”

They laughed, a breathless, uneasy thing brought on by sheer exhaustion.

“Come home, man,” The fish monster finally pleaded, her voice cracking. “Please. Everyone misses you. I… I get that you feel like you don’t deserve it, really, I do, and I’m not saying I’m happy after everything that just happened, but…” She shook her head, holding out a webbed hand. “Please, I’m begging here.”

He smiled. “You know I can’t. You, however, should _definitely_ go home, cause you look like shit.”

“You’re one to talk!” Undyne snorted. She then paused, brow furrowing. “Are you… bleeding?” 

“Huh?” Sans glanced down, moving his jacket aside to reveal crimson soaking into his shirt. It felt hot, burned with every wheezing breath he took, brought memories of a dust coated hall and a too sterile lab. “Looks like it wasn’t a cramp after all. Welp, somebody grab me a hotdog cause you _musta_ actually hit me earlier.” He snickered at his own joke, the motion sending a puff of glittering dust from the wound. The world blurred.

“Shit, you’re dusting,” Undyne took a shaky step toward him, then let out a gasp as she put weight on her ankle. She stumbled, but barely took notice. “Grab my arm and let’s go, we need to get to Toriel. I don't have the energy to heal you.”

“Nah,” Sans shrugged, the motion sending a wave of nausea through him. “I said I wanted consequences, right? This seems fair.”

“Sans!” Undyne cried, reaching out and grabbing the sleeve of his jacket. Her hands felt clammy, slick with sweat, which seemed like a bizarre thing to take note of. “Don’t be an idiot, we need to _go_!”

Sans let out a weak laugh. “Why? It’s all just gonna reset anyway.”

“What?” Undyne gaped at him for a moment, then shook her head. “Cut it out, you idiot! What am I supposed to tell Papyrus, huh!? I can’t tell him I dusted his brother! What about Toriel, who’s gonna laugh at all those stupid joke books with her? What about Frisk!? You’re the only one they _listen_ to, don’t think I didn’t notice! They need you, Toriel needs you, Pap needs you-- fuck it, I need you, so get us home _now_!” She shook him violently, scattering some dust to the wind. The motion aggravated her injuries, causing her to let out a gasp as she slumped against him. Her webbed fingers clutched at his jacket like a lifeline.

“You should go home, Undies,” Sans gasped out as they leaned against each other, his skull drooping into the crook of her shoulder. “You ain’t looking so hot…”

“Fucking get me home, then!” Undyne roared in his face, shaking him again. Upon receiving another laugh in response, she let out a snarl of frustration. “Damnit Sans! If you don’t teleport us both this fucking instant I will stab myself and _make you_ take us home.”

That snapped Sans to attention, visible eye widening as he pulled back from her. “Don’t.”

Undyne let out a somewhat manic laugh as she squeezed her eye shut, clearly fighting against the tears brimming within it. “Sorry pal, but if we’re in a stubbornness contest, I’m sure as hell gonna win. You’ve got ‘til the count of three.” 

“Undyne--”

“One.” Undyne pushed away from the skeleton, ignoring the way he stumbled for balance.

“UNDYNE!”

“Two!” There was a flash of light as a spear appeared in Undyne’s hand and she took a deep breath. “Th--”

Undyne’s words were cut off as a skeletal hand shot up to grab her arm, the world around them spinning as Sans tugged her forward. Her spear dissipated on reflex. Gray rock blurred as it swirled into green grass, cloudy skies melded into blue with nausea-inducing speed. There was an abrupt ‘ _pop’_ before the two of them fell onto a familiar front lawn, Undyne dropping to her knees with Sans in her arms. She simply sat there for a moment, gasping for breath, squeezing her eyes shut against her aggravated injuries.

“Welp,” Sans wheezed out, flickering single eye blinking up at her through half-lidded eyesockets. “Congrats, Undies, you won. Ya beat me. Great job.”

“Shut up,” Undyne growled as she fought to rise, legs shaking under the strain. “TORIEL!?” She called out, jerking her head toward the house.

“Not so loud, I’d hate to worry the neighbors.” There was a weak chuckle, skeletal fingers reaching up to squeeze Undyne’s arm. Dust smeared across sweat-soaked blue scales as Sans spoke. “Don’t worry about it. I can’t do this to Tori. You go inside and get patched up, huh? I’ll work something out."

“Shut up! You’re not going anywhere.” Undyne breathed as she finally rose, rushing for the front door. “TORIEL!? TORIEL, WE NEED--” 

Another laugh as Sans’ eyes fell shut. “See ya, Undies. Tell everybody ‘hi’ for me, huh?”

He vanished in a burst of blue light and dust.


	8. this too shall pass (or not)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took so long! There's been a lot of life stuff going on, so this chapter was a real struggle. But I seem to have things... sort of under control now, so hopefully updates should come a more reasonable pace. You know, as opposed to a month apart.
> 
> Thank you so much for all the feedback last chapter, I really appreciate it! Please be sure to comment on this chapter as well, saying what you liked and disliked is a lot of help when it comes to inspiration. Also, more comments helps encourage other people to check out this fic and comment, so you'd be doing me a huge favor!
> 
> Chapter title is from the song This Too Shall Pass by Danny Schmidt, which was featured as an early Welcome to Night Vale weather. It is one of my favorite songs of all time. Obviously the (or not) is not in the song lyrics, but welp. It fits Sans.

Everything hurt. Which, on the bright side, meant Sans wasn't dead. Unfortunately, it also meant he _wasn't dead_.

The skeleton let out a groan as he rolled across the plush surface of whatever he was laying on, further tangling himself in the embrace of the fleece blanket tucked around him. He pressed his face into the pillow beneath his head-- a smart move, as it muffled his gasp of pain. His side _screamed_ , though his jaw managed to muffle it to a hiss. Waking up to aches and pains was hardly new, but this was a very different sort of ache, one Sans highly doubted Papyrus’ stretch routines would save him from. He felt like he’d been hit by a truck and that truck’s name was Undyne.

Also he had a headache. _Again_. Maybe he’d always have this headache. This was it, his final fate, stuck with a throbbing skull until the end of time.

“Damn, I could use some _ibuprofane,_ ” He snorted to himself. He probably should have done more than just laying there, but pain was a great demotivational speaker. Even better than laziness, though his constant companion made some great arguments for just how comfy this blanket was. Plus, everything felt so damn _heavy_. Yeah, definitely better to just stay where he was.

Sans dozed for some time, drifting in and out of awareness, lulled by the gentle tick of a nearby clock. It was only after some time that this became a distraction.

Who did he know who owned a clock that actually _ticked_ in this day and age?

The skeleton frowned, eye sockets cracking open. The overstuffed back of a floral print couch filled his vision, tasteful but definitely old fashioned. He sat up, biting back a groan of pain as he did so, then glanced around. The rest of the room was similarly decorated, plenty of floral print to match the overflowing vases decorating every available surface. A grandfather clock ticked away against one wall, the aged wood carved artfully into woven, flowering branches around the clockface. It was a comfortable living room, arranged for large and frequent visits, but warmth was at odds with the newness of the furniture and the overwhelming floral scent.

“Good ‘ol Fluffybuns,” Sans murmured as reached out to pluck a folded note from the coffee table.

_Howdy Sans, I apologize for not being here when you wake. I am in the garden. I have left you a change of clothes and a towel. If you feel up to it, I believe a shower would do you some good. The bathroom is down the hall, first door to your left. I will order some food when I return, is pizza okay? If not that is fine, just write down what you are hungry for._

_P.S. If you would rather just lay down, that is also fine. Please make yourself at home._

_P.P.S. Please do not take a shortcut anywhere. I do not think it would be safe given your condition._

“Fair enough,” Sans muttered as he picked up a nearby pen. He scribbled out a quick response (“ _pizzas fine thx”_ ) then craned his neck to glance toward the hallway. It seemed so far away… but a shower did sound like a good idea. He wasn't sure he _could_ make the walk though, and asking the king of all monsters for help limping to the bathroom seemed out of the question. With that in mind Sans scooped up the towel and clothes, took a deep breath, then vanished in a flash of blue.

The world spun as Sans realized just how bad this idea had been. His nonexistent stomach lurched as he dropped face first, skull clicking hard against the linoleum tile of the bathroom. He simply laid there for awhile, side and head throbbing as hot nausea rolled through his body. After a few minutes it cleared enough for Sans to rise. He grabbed the edge of the toilet, using it to haul himself up as he brushed fingers over his cheekbone. Nothing broken, but he’d probably bruise-- then again, the mirror was placed too high above the sink for him to check. Served him right for being lazy, he guessed.

His jacket was gone-- presumably being washed. Sans hoped Undyne hadn't shredded it enough for it to finally go back to the dump where it belonged. His t-shirt didn't look too bad as he shrugged it off, the only damage was one small hole in the right side. This was fortunate, anything more than a glancing blow would have been the end of him. He peered down at his side, hissing as he ran phalanges over the hairline crack in his ribs, the couple of spots where the bone had chipped and healing magic would be unlikely to fix. He’d been _extremely_ lucky, so he supposed scarring was preferable.

Of course, this could have been avoided if he’d just died properly. Frisk definitely would have reset and he would’ve kept his ribcage intact. But then there had been the off chance that Toriel or Papyrus made it close enough to actually see him dust, and he couldn’t handle the idea of putting them through that, even if it was only temporary. So a final shortcut to somebody who could help or at least let him dust peacefully had been the only option.

Curse that stupid urge to stick to his convictions. It was really at odds with his dream to just never have to deal with any of this ever again.

Sans pushed the floral shower curtain aside and hiked over the edge of the clawfoot tub. He then paused, standing with naught but his bare bones and utter confusion as he peered at the unlabeled knobs of the shower.

Fluffybuns hadn’t told him which was hot and which was cold. Of course not. There was a low hum from a nearby vent as the air conditioning kicked on. After how hot the summer had been, he thought he’d appreciate the cold, but no, this was decidedly miserable. Sans shivered and reached out for the left knob-- fuck it, he’d figure it out soon enough, right?

A burst of ice cold water sprayed onto his skull and Sans let out a _shriek_ , hitting octaves he’d thought impossible for his deep voice. He squeezed his eyesockets shut against the onslaught of cold as he desperately reached for the other knob-- how was it so much harder to grab a second time!? He finally tugged the warm water on with a jerk, letting out a sigh as the temperature adjusted to a comforting heat.

Once he got past the initial betrayal of the cold he’d been longing for all this time, the shower was honestly just what he’d needed. He made a point of angling his injured side away from the spray, but the warm water felt good on his aching joints. He let his head drop down, allowing the hot water to drizzle in soothing streams at the base of his skull and down his spine.

After a few minutes of this he glanced at the shower rack, spotting several large bottles of shampoo. He snorted to himself-- he supposed it made sense, Asgore had a lot of fur to wash. Sans, of course, was hairless, so he figured the soap would be good enough. The soap in question was a warm golden yellow and Sans tried not to think of the potential weirdness of the King of all Monsters having also used the same soap. Whatever, it didn’t really matter. He took it and began to scrub, making a point of getting the lather at spots where dirt and magical sweat had been gathering over the past couple of days.

The instant the scent of the lather hit his nostrils, Sans gagged, entire body going rigid. _Flowers_. Golden petals in the snow, his brother’s dust coating vines, a sharp toothed smile twisting into a grimace. Words barbed with thorns echoed in his mind, battles in a golden hallway mere feet from a king who would never know.

Sans finished up his shower pretty quickly after that.

The skeleton dried off with the fluffiest towel to ever exist, then changed into the clothes he’d been given. His brow furrowed as he took a look at the print-- _New Home Summer BBQ ‘97_ , huh? A careful sniff revealed the shirt in question had likely been a dogs’ at one point, which meant the lack of grass stains was really an impressive feat. The t-shirt came down to his knees and he couldn’t help but let out a tired snicker, giving a small twirl. “Sure I’m big boned, but check out ‘dat femur gap.”

He considered the shorts he’d been offered-- they were probably running shorts, but on him they were sure to hit the tops of his feet and that didn’t appeal to him. Ah well, he could get away with wearing his own shorts several days in a row, right?

Now that he’d been standing for awhile, he found it was easier than he’d initially thought, but Sans still felt pretty drained when he finally stumbled out of the bathroom. The scent of pizza wafted down the hallway and he snuffled in that direction, occasionally using the wall to help himself along.

When he reached the dining room, Asgore glanced up from the book he’d been reading with a start. “Oh dear, I’m so sorry Sans, I didn’t realize you were out!” He exclaimed as he jumped to his feet, his chair giving a sharp ‘ _squeak_ ’ against the floor. “Do you need any help? My apologies, I should have considered your condition when I suggested you shower.”

Sans waved the boss monster off as he wobbled his way to the table. “Don’t get your horns all in a bunch, Your Majesty, I’m fine.” He let out a sharp breath as he flopped into the chair, grin collapsing into a sigh of relief as he settled.

Asgore frowned, remaining on his feet. “Are you certain? Your um…” He trailed off, then reached up to point at his own right eye. “Your eye is out.”

“Huh?” Sans blinked in surprise, then gave a groan as he reached up to clutch at the eye in question. That made sense, he’d lost a lot of magic. Given the strain of that fight, he’d be lucky if he hadn't burnt that socket out completely. “Don't worry about it, _Eye’m_ certainly not.”

“You should not lie to me, Sans,” Asgore stated, raising a bushy brow. “You were very nearly dust when you appeared in my living room. You are fortunate I was home, any further delay and I am certain you would be dead.”

The skeleton shrugged. “My bad. Didn’t mean to go to pieces on ya or get dust all over your carpet, Majesty.”

Asgore’s muzzle pursed into a frown. “The second is hardly as concerning as your health, Sans.”

“Fair enough,” Sans spoke even as he waved away the concern. “Sorry for dropping in on you like that, I just wasn't sure where else to go.”

The frown deepened. “Given your… relationship with my former wife, I assumed she'd be your first choice. She is the superior healer.”

Sans winced. “I uh… well, you know.” He forced a cough that quickly became a real one thanks to his injury. “So uh, anyway, how about a _piece-za_ that pizza, huh? Whatcha get?”

Asgore let out a sigh as he reached over to flip the box open. “Pepperoni. My apologies, I was not sure what you actually wanted.”

He received a shrug in response as Sans plucked several pieces for himself. “That's cause I’m a garbage disposal. Living with Papyrus has given me the ability to eat literally anything. And it looks like you got Big O’s, fancy.”

Asgore chuckled. “Undyne tells me they're the best in town. Please help yourself, I’ll get you something to drink.” He wandered toward the kitchen, his burly frame taking up the entirety of the doorway. “I know you are not a fan of my tea, is soda all right? Or I have juice and chocolate milk for when Frisk visits…”

“Soda’s fine,” Sans called after him before he took his first bite of pizza. Huh, it really was the good stuff-- proper crust, plenty of cheese, actual ingredients as opposed to straight grease. His intent was to savor it, but getting something in his system seemed to remind his body of the gaping hole his magic reserves had become. He began to eat ravenously, taking in the sight of Asgore's dining room as he did so. More antiquated furniture, more flowers as far as the eye could see. Classy, an interesting mixture of rich and homey, but it still felt empty.

It wasn't that Sans was entirely unfamiliar with Asgore's home. He used to visit the King often, though that had mostly been back Underground. He had a duty to attend to after all. While he did his best to do so with a casual air, it was an important one. The King of the Underground had once also been the Judge, the one meant to keep track of the souls of his subjects and their doings. Unfortunately, the blood of six children had muddied that status, and so Asgore had found himself in need of a new Judge. Then had come the accident, leaving Sans with a certain sense of perspective to combine with the already innate understanding of a soul’s weight that came with blue magic.

The choice was obvious, but it wasn’t one Sans really enjoyed.

So he kept an eye socket on the Underground, on all the monsters and what weighed on their souls. Mostly this just meant he gave advice, happened to be in the right place at the right time to steer people where they ought to go. Other times there was calling out to be had, judgement in the form of blunt words and statements of consequence. True Judgement was rare, reserved for twisting vines and a glittering smile behind a knife.

But well, that had never really happened, had it?

At any rate, Sans the Judge stood in the shadows, the hooded figure keeping watch, the knowing smile at far too many sentry stations to make sense. He watched and listened and every couple of weeks he’d drop in to give Asgore a report on the status of his kingdom, the hope (or lack thereof) of his subjects. There were other discussions of course, how Papyrus was doing, Undyne’s latest stunts, and had Sans seen Alphys lately because she wasn’t returning Asgore’s calls back then. Little things about life, stories of gardening, the warmth of a fire that always seemed to come with the King’s presence.

The thing about these discussions is the warmth of them never seemed to reach Asgore’s eyes, not really. They always seemed weighed down and Sans couldn’t blame him, not when he felt the guilt in the King’s soul. It was heavy, thick as the dust coating old pictures and toys from a life long gone, choking Sans like the scent of golden flower tea and his own damnable memories. So he’d visited, sure, but there had always been that distance. It was hard for there not to be, not with the weight Asgore had put on his shoulders. Add a healthy dose of awkward when Sans had become close with the boss monster’s estranged wife, and well…

Sans had always been pretty good at making excuses when he really didn’t want to be somewhere. Sure, he visited with the rest of the family, came along and winced and snickered through Toriel’s grumbled comments, but pretty much the only reason he came at all was because Frisk--

He grimaced, swallowed the thought with a particularly greasy bite of pizza. Fortunately, Asgore chose that moment to return with the soda.

“Dang, a coaster and everything? _Somebody’s_ fancy.” Sans grinned as he popped the can open.

Asgore flashed a sad smile. “It is a… habit that the former Queen drilled into me. I admit I prefer my furniture without the stains.”

Sans took a big gulp of soda to try to process a good way out of this awkward conversation. Toriel hadn’t driven that particular habit into him yet, but he could recall gentle chiding from a few days ago. The memory both warmed his soul and made him feel incredibly guilty about it. “So uh,” Sans began slowly. “Some weather, huh? I’d say the humidity is pretty intense but I’m trying to not _sweat it_.”

That got a snort from Asgore. “I cannot say I’ve been enjoying it. I appreciate the sunshine, but I have a bit too much fur for this level of heat to be enjoyable. But this will pass, as all things do.”  As he spoke, he filled his plate with well over half the box of pizza. Sans wasn’t gonna judge, the King was a big monster. “Did you sleep all right? I know couches are not always the most comfortable.”

Sans nodded as he started on his second slice of pizza. “Like a regular baby bones, thanks. I really do appreciate it.”

“Think nothing of it,” Asgore said with a shake of his great head. “I would, however, appreciate an explanation now that you are no longer dying on my doorstep.”

“Uh…” Sans blinked at him for a moment. “Felt like dropping in on an old friend?” He promptly shoved the entire slice into his mouth, making it impossible to continue this line of discussion.

The King surveyed him with a flat expression. He then gave a sigh. “Sans. You appeared on my doorstep half dead. I am certain had you received a full hit, you would not have survived. I was only just barely able to save you. Once you were stable I called Toriel--”

“You called _Tori_!?” Sans sputtered through a mouth full of pizza. Asgore fixed him with another stare and he winced. He then took a swig of soda and swallowed heavily. “Sorry.”

Asgore shook his head. “Of course I called her-- and it is a good thing I did. She told me you appeared heavily injured on her lawn with Undyne and then disappeared before she could do anything. Everyone thought you were _dead_.”

Sans frowned. “Oh. I can see why they’d think that.” Shit. He actually hadn’t thought about how things would look when he’d teleported away.

Maroon eyes glowered at him from over the table. “She was… very upset when I called her.  I have not heard her that upset in a very long time.” In spite of Asgore’s stiff attempts to maintain composure, Sans could hear the undercurrent of anger in his tone. He couldn’t blame the boss monster, he felt pretty much the same over the idea of anybody upsetting Toriel.

It was a damn shame that person usually seemed to be himself.

“Sorry your Majesty. I just didn’t want her or Paps to see me dust on the front lawn,” He sighed, reaching up to rub the back of his skull. “I couldn’t live with myself if that happened.”

Asgore’s brow furrowed. “Was that another pun?”

“It’s a habit when I’m nervous.” The skeleton shrugged.

“Mmm.” Asgore nodded. “At any rate, she told me that Undyne was in terrible shape. Apparently you two got in some kind of fight?”

“Uh, yeeeeaah…” Sans took another gulp of soda. “There’s been some… issues. I needed some time to myself. We had a disagreement. It happens.”

Asgore quirked a brow. “Is that so? Because _I_ heard you had some kind of breakdown the other day and nearly attacked Frisk, then promptly disappeared to the west coast. Also, apparently you said some incredibly cruel things to Alphys.”

“Tori told you all that, huh?” Sans asked, grimacing.

“I don’t suppose she was missing some details?” The King murmured.

The skeleton let out a breath as he set the can down. “Well, you’re certainly glossing over how Undyne literally ran _cross country_ to come fight my ass. She’s the one who swung at _me_.”

“Oh, not to worry,” Asgore rumbled. “I assure you, Miss Undyne will be getting quite the talking to when she has recovered. However, this not about her, Sans. This is about you.”

At the mention of a ‘talk’, Sans felt rather like he was a dumb kid who’d gone and tattled to his friend’s dad. This seemed all the more accurate when combined with the guilt in his throat-- after all, he was just as much to blame for the fight as former captain of the royal guard. Still, he really didn’t feel like discussing his personal issues with the King of all Monsters. Asgore may have been a father to much of the Underground, but his relationship with Sans had always been professional. Or at least as professional as anything involving the skeleton could be, and he intended to keep it that way.

“Look, Your Majesty,” Sans began, holding his hands up in a motion he hoped seemed pacifying. “I appreciate your concern, but it’s not really any of your business. Undyne and I handled it-- not the best way, I admit it, but we’re square now. And yeah, I uh… I’m dealing with some stuff. I did have a panic attack, that’s… that’s true.” The words felt thick in his jaw, wrong, like saying them aloud was admitting something terrible. Sans tried to stumble past the subject quickly. “But that’s why I skipped town. Wouldn’t wanna be a danger to anybody, right? So yeah, thanks for the concern, but I’ve got this.”

Asgore’s frown grew heavy. “I have a severe dip in my magic reserves that would disagree, Sans. It sounds to me you’ve been making some very poor decisions. It also sounds as if you are not telling me the whole truth.”

The skeleton bristled at that. “What, you wanna talk about the truth? Cause yeah, you’re so good at that, hiding away in your castle and your nice house with your memories while the world passes you by.”

“I believe you know better than most how much the truth actually weighs on me, Judge.” Asgore said quietly.

Breath caught in Sans’ non-existent throat. There were things he could say, snarls about the foolishness of Asgore’s once great plan, harsh words on the concept of mercy and the price of six lives. Words of half measures and a lack of conviction, blows that would make those heavy shoulders crumble with the weight of them. But what was the point? Asgore already knew them. There was nothing Sans could say that the King had not already done for himself.

Unfortunately, that meant there was no distracting from his own weight and they both knew it.

“All right, you want the truth, huh?” Sans asked, a terrible grin stretching across his face. “Fine, here's the list: I can't let go of everything from the Underground and it's completely fucking my relationships. I’m pissed off at a child for things they technically never did and I nearly killed them over it two days ago. I’ve done everything in my power to drink myself into an early grave. I’ve pushed away everyone and everything that matters because I can't fucking deal. And yeah, I tore into my ex-best friend when all she was trying to do was help me, then egged Undyne into a fight. That's just two days of my stupid-ass decisions, don't even get me started on everything else. How’s that for the truth!?”

The words started out in something akin to harsh laughter, but as they tumbled from his jaw they grew strained. The sweet release of anger dwindled down to bitter dregs, leaving Sans breathless even as his insides churned on their own weight. He sat in the aftermath, flashing that grin-turned grimace, but Asgore simply stared him down. Finally, Sans gave a sigh, shoulders slumping. “What do you want me to say, your Kingliness? You want me to tell you I screwed up? Cause I did.”

Asgore watched him in silence for a moment, then let out a sigh himself. “Well, admitting it is a start. You have never enjoyed being the focus of the conversation, at least when it comes to honesty. I am proud of you for saying it aloud.”

Sans snorted. “Oh yeah, because that’s all it takes. Sure, I’ve fucked everything up, but hey, as long as I _admit it_ we’re square, right?”

“What would you prefer, Sans?”Asgore’s words took on a hard tone, became the rumble of a storm that suited his position. He sat up straight, his shoulders thick and powerful, horns set aflame in the sunset trailing in from the nearby window. “Would it feel better if I took you to task for it? Should I list all the ways I expected better from you? Should I mention how very strict your moral code is and the ways you’ve stomped all over it? How you’ve always had a talent for knowing exactly what to say, how awful it is that you’ve used that gift to bring down someone who hardly needs your help? Would it feel better if I called up the former queen and asked her to list off all the ways you nearly killed Undyne-- whom, I will remind you, is essentially my daughter? Should I remind you how lucky you are to be surrounded by family-- something I will never have again, and that you have _spat that gift in my face_?”

At each sentence Sans felt as if he were shrinking, shriveling deep into his chair. Each word was a physical weight dragging him down, he could feel his bones creaking, felt the way his ribs threatened to split under the pressure. His actions from the past few days weighed him down, added to the tally of days spent useless as dust swirled at his feet. He squeezed his eyes shut at the end of the list, the soda can crinkling under his shaking grip. He swallowed his own shuddering breath.

“No,” Asgore finally murmured, voice turning gentle again. “I think I shall not. Because those are your words, not mine, and there is no way for me to deliver them that can match what you have set up for yourself. I won’t be a part of it. After all, you did not do so for me.”

Sans swallowed again. He tried to still his hands. “...All right, Your Majesty. What will you do then? What's the right course of action for monsters like us?”

The King regarded him quietly for a moment. Then he let out a sigh. “You are the Judge. You tell me.”

Sans stared at him. “King Asgore Dreemur,” He murmured after a moment, voice growing wooden as he spoke the sentence he’d given hundreds of times. “You have killed six human children. While your actions were rooted in good intentions, that doesn’t excuse them. Good intentions can’t take away from the weight of a life. They’ll weigh on you forever, drag you down, and the worst part about it is that only a couple are gonna blame you even though you’ll wish everyone would. The price for your good intentions is forgiveness and your exile. You will never see your wife and children as they were.”

The smile Asgore gave him was sad, resigned. “But?”

“...But,” Sans continued with a grudging nod. “That exile’s on you, your Majesty. You can’t have what you had, that’s the consequence. You can’t go back, the weight’s always gonna be there. But you could love again. This house could have a new family if you wanted it. You could start again, there’s always the option to start again.” He grit his teeth as he looked to the King, the weight of that burden suffocating. “But you won’t. Because accepting forgiveness means moving on, and that’s harder than the guilt, isn’t it?”

The King nodded. “You are right, of course. But is that sentence for myself or for you, my friend?”

Sans said nothing.

Asgore took a bite of pizza. The action seemed bizarre amongst the heavy conversation. After chewing and swallowing, the King spoke again. “I cannot claim to understand what has brought you to this point, Sans. I understand if you do not want to talk about it. As I said, you have never liked discussing yourself or your problems. But I certainly understand what it is like to be weighed down by your mistakes, even well-meaning ones.”

As the words washed over the skeleton, Sans averted his gaze to the half-crushed can in his hands. “How do you do it, your Majesty?” He mumbled after another moment of silence, his voice small as his hunched shoulders. “How do you live with it when it’s not gonna change or get better?”

“I live with it _because_ it gets better,” Asgore said gently. In spite of the skeleton’s disbelieving snort, he continued. “You’ve told me many times of the consequences of my actions, but you have also told me I could avoid my own exile if I chose. You are correct. I will never be with my wife again, I understand that. My children are gone.  But I can still atone for my actions. I can try to show Toriel I understand the error of my ways and at least be her friend. I can do what I can to care for this new family. I can garden. I can still be a part of Frisk’s life. I can watch Undyne and be proud of her. I can take care of my Kingdom, I can have friends. Perhaps one day I could even love again-- someone else, of course.”

His eyes were distant, wistful as he looked outside to the sunset tracing patterns across his lush backyard. “I am not saying things do not weigh on me. They do, and as you said, they always will. I am a failure of a King and there are days when that is all I can think of. But this too shall pass.”

Asgore looked back to Sans, still smiling gently as he took hold of his mug. “It will change and get better. I know you do not believe that. But we are no longer in the Underground, our lives are no longer stagnant. These things will pass if you are willing to let them. But first you have to be willing to let them, just as you’ve told me.”

Sans still said nothing.

“Sans,” The King said. “I know better than anyone what it means to wallow in the past. That wallowing cost me what little remained of my family. It is not too late for you. You should go home-- not right this second, of course, but soon.” With these words he took a sip of his tea, then made a face. “Ah, it seems I have rambled so much that my tea's gone cold. My apologies, I did not realize I had talked for so long!” He chuckled-- a deep, booming thing that brought warmth to the whole dining room. Of course, that warmth may have also been his paws, which glowed with fire magic.

“Don’t worry about it,” Sans murmured, though his voice seemed far away.

The two sat in relative silence for awhile, which in this case actually meant Asgore filled that silence with meaningless, light discussion. Sans nodded absently in agreement about how cold pizza just wasn’t the same even though he didn’t feel that way at all. His thoughts turned to the previous discussion.

He supposed old Fluffybuns had a point, if anyone had experience in wallowing in the past it was Asgore. In spite of that, Sans had seen him helping Toriel with her gardening more and more. If the murderer of six children could make effort to move on, there was probably hope. However, Sans had yet to even take that first step, and he already felt so exhausted that he could barely move.

This too shall pass, the King had said, but Sans had woken up in his old bed back in Snowdin far too many times to believe that. So where did that leave him?

\---

Toriel had always been a stress baker. Frisk had figured that out long before they’d actually seen it. There were a number of reasons Toriel had remained hidden in the Ruins long ago: her grief for children lost, her discomfort in large groups of unfamiliar monsters, her lack of confidence in herself. Their mom’s calm was something carefully crafted by years of experience, a tool meant to hold back a swirling sea of anxiety. For the most part it worked, it just meant when things got difficult, Toriel did a lot of cleaning and baking to keep herself busy.

So when the boss monster had ushered everyone into the kitchen, Frisk knew what was going on. They forced a smile as Toriel handed them ingredients, politely ignoring the way her paws shook as she handed off the eggs. Of course, there was no ignoring just how many recipe cards she’d laid out for their agenda. No one said anything about it-- the heavy silence in the wake of Frisk telling their story to the group had almost been too much to bear, so how could they ruin the uneasy normalcy Toriel had used to break it?

“Oh hey, you got the good stuff! No cheapo semi-sweet chocolate chips in Toriel’s hou- OW!” Undyne’s voice became a yelp as a wooden spoon flew out to smack the back of her hand.

“None for you, young lady.” Toriel said firmly. “The chocolate chip cookies are for monsters who _didn’t_ run across the country at four in the morning.”

The fish monster pouted as she rocked backwards on the stool she was sitting on, rubbing the spot she’d been struck. “Aw, c’mon, I’m an invalid!”

“Yes, and there is more where that came from if you do not keep your hands to yourself, miss,” Toriel huffed, jabbing the spoon in Undyne’s direction.

Undyne let out a huff of her own that quickly became a hiss as it aggravated still healing ribs. “But I’m hungry! C’mon Toriel, the sooner I heal, the sooner I can fix that drywall.”

Toriel glowered at her.

That got a wince from Undyne, her smile guilty as held up her hands in a gesture of peace. “H-hey, come on, I only brought it up again to say how sorry I am!”

More glaring. Then Toriel let out a sigh and gently pushed the bag of oats across the counter. “You can have some oatmeal if you want. There are peaches and raisins to add to it. But that’s all you’re getting, young lady.”

“Sweet, thanks!” Undyne grinned wide and sharp, pulling the bag of oats closer so she could jam a hand into them.

“PUT THEM! IN! A BOWL!” Papyrus exclaimed, reaching out to lightly swat Undyne’s hand away with an oven mitt. At his best friend’s guilty grin the skeleton tutted, reaching out to take the bag of oatmeal and puttering over to the cabinets. “I swear, you and my brother are cut from the same barbarous cloth. _Real heroes_ have table manners!”

“Sorry,” Undyne muttered, bandaged shoulders slumping as she laid her head down on the countertop. The fish monster was bandaged nearly from head to toe. Her red hair pooled across her arms from where it hung free, the lowered flag of a fallen warrior. “Ugh, I feel terrible,” She wheezed into her arms. “Your brother kicked my ass, Paps.”

The skeleton gave a huff in response as he placed a bowl on the countertop. He began to put together what could only be described as a nutritious breakfast, sprinkling raisins in with the oatmeal. “Well, I certainly hope you learned your lesson,” He said as he carefully sliced the peaches, a far cry from the smashing he would have given the fruit a year ago. Sure, the pieces of fruit were all different sizes, but it was still impressive. “Granted, I was not aware my brother was so…” He trailed off for a moment, knife slowing. “It would seem there is quite a bit the Great Papyrus doesn’t know.”

Alphys let out a sigh. She was carefully measuring out spices on the stool next to Undyne’s, her tail drooping to the floor behind her. “That isn’t your fault, Papyrus. I-it turns out there was a lot we didn’t know.” She flinched at her own words, the motion spilling some flour onto the countertop as she glanced over at Frisk. “N-not that we don’t understand why!”

“Of course not!” Undyne agreed quickly, raising her head and plastering on a forced grin. “I totally get why you didn’t tell us until today, kid! Hell, when Sans told me, I tried to stab him in the face!”

Frisk froze, staring at her with wide eyes from their own stool on the other side of the counter. Toriel glared at the fish monster once more over her child’s head even as she quickly wiped up Alphys’ spill.

“No, no, I’m just saying that’s on me!” Undyne exclaimed. “Obviously I can be… pretty rash a lot of the time. I don’t really think through what I do, I just… kinda feel. Which is part of why we’re in this mess in the first place.” Her smile became more tired as she looked away, regret in her grumbled tone. “So I get it. If I’m the sort of person who would go fight for my girlfriend’s honor instead of being here when she needs it, what was I gonna do if you told me you’d killed me in some weirdo alternate timeline?”

“Undyne…” Alphys murmured. She reached out to clasp her girlfriend’s hand in her claws, smiling warmly. “You know I usually like that about you, right? You always do everything with so much conviction, I just wish you’d save a bit of that to listen to everyone else once and awhile.”

“Thanks Babe, but it doesn’t change the fact that I was a total jerk,” The fish monster said as she leaned over to put her head on Alphys’ shoulder.

“We’ve all made mistakes over the past few days, Undyne,” Papyrus piped up as he slid the oatmeal bowl into the microwave. “It is hard to believe, but even _I_ must admit I should have been more careful with my words to my brother. Of course, perhaps that would have been easier to process if he’d simply _told me_ …” His jaw pressed into a frown as he turned away from the whirring microwave, folding his arms over his cheery red apron. “I just... I do not understand. If time has been repeating, if my brother remembers it… if he has been suffering alone through all of this, why wouldn’t he tell me?”

“I’m sure he tried,” Undyne pointed out. “But Frisk said before they even came, the big problem was the flower, right? And he was your friend?”

Papyrus nodded. “Of course! Flowey was my good friend, I knew he had a reason for hurting us all in the end even if I didn't know what it was! Friends don’t hurt each other without reason!”

Toriel smiled as she whisked away at the bowl in her paws. “You see the good in everyone, Papyrus, and that is truly admirable. Unfortunately, it is not always safe for you… and you _can_ be quite stubborn when you believe something is right. It is entirely possible that Sans tried to speak with you and you did not believe him.”

The skeleton appeared absolutely crestfallen at this. “I… suppose that is very likely…” He reached down to fiddle with the edge of his apron, brow furrowed. “The Great Papyrus has always been a great listener… but I also believe a person can change, if they really try. It sounds to me, Frisk, that you are proof of that.” He looked to the child and smiled.

Frisk looked like they were going to be sick. They shook their head, raising their hands to sign. “ _You shouldn’t say things like that. I killed you. A lot. Even though you gave me plenty of chances, I killed you every time.”_

“No, your friend _Chara_ did,” Papyrus said pointedly. “But they were mad at the world, they had their reasons. They were hurt. And it sounds to me that you taught them to do the right thing in the end. And I’m still here, right? So there’s nothing to worry about and I am very proud of you!” He beamed and nodded, as if that somehow settled the matter.

“H-he’s right, Frisk,” Alphys put in. “You explained your reasonings and we all…” She trailed off for a moment, then sighed. “I understand, having mistakes you want to keep secret. And I know coming clean about everything is scary. But we… we’re not going anywhere. We love you, no matter what you did. If you did that for me, it’s the least I can do for you.”

“Al’s right,” Undyne spoke up. “Look… I may be kicking myself for not catching on when I thought I recognized you, but I get it and I… forgive you, okay? I might be a bit weirded out by all this, but I’ll get over it. So don’t go beating yourself up over something I don’t even remember or I’ll---” She winced, pulling back from the noogie she’d been about to give when it aggravated her injuries. “I’ll give you _a million_ noogies as soon as I’m better, ya hear, punk!?”

Frisk had arguments. They had so many arguments. But they could see the force behind Undyne’s grin, the way Alphys’ tail twitched, the worry behind Papyrus’ expression. They were already so weighed down by the story combined with everything else that had happened, who was Frisk to add more to that with their guilt?

So they smiled, they nodded, and they let their hands drop.

Toriel glanced down at them for a moment, frowning. “All right, I believe I had us all come in here because I wanted a break from all of this heaviness. Frisk has told us the story and we have forgiven them. For now, let’s focus on baking, hm? This peach cobbler and these cookies aren’t going to make themselves.”

“What about the chocolate pie?” Undyne asked over the beeping of the microwave.

“You know, I was considering it, but it’s very possible with this heat the custard may not hold shape. Perhaps I’ll scrap it and go with another project for myself,” Toriel hummed thoughtfully. “Here Frisk, can you measure out the flour for the cobbler? Be very careful now, we can always clean it up but I’d rather not have flour all over the kitchen.”

“Holy crap Paps, did you put honey in this!?” Undyne exclaimed over Toriel’s careful direction.

Papyrus beamed with pride, puffing out his chest. “I have infused it with extra friendship and love in hopes that you will heal faster! But also, yes, I also used honey.”

“Man, the student really has surpassed the teacher, your cooking’s gotten _so good_!”

Frisk let the conversation wash over them as they allowed their mind to wander. It was very nearly a normal scene, most of the pieces were in place. Papyrus and Undyne were loudly discussing the lesser points of cooking, Toriel was carefully correcting them and Alphys was giggling as she was pulled along for the ride. Still, it was all wrong, wrecked by the sight of Undyne’s bandaged hand shoveling oatmeal into her mouth, the way Papyrus kept obsessively checking his phone, the moment where Alphys had to stop herself from falling into her old habit of chewing on her tail. It all hinged on the hole left after Toriel’s forced “all or muffin” pun. Papyrus let out an uproarious howl of fake anger that came just a bit too late, underscored by Undyne’s groan, Alphys’ polite giggle and Frisk’s forced smile.

Everything was wrong. Frisk had seen their mom upset, but never like this. Even amongst all the stress involved with monster citizenship and the hustle involved with the plans to get her school going, Toriel always handled things with a smile and multiple stress-produced baked goods. But those small storms had also come with several helping hands, and also… well, _Sans_. Whenever Toriel was overwhelmed the skeleton always seemed to be there to keep her smiling, to watch after Frisk when she needed a moment. Sure, his backup was odd and often came with plenty of shortcuts (as his help always did), but it had been nice. For all his laziness, Sans was always there when she needed him and now he he had finally broken his promise. Toriel had always been a pillar of strength, but Frisk could see it wearing on her. Even without the outburst from yesterday, Frisk could see it pulling at the edges of smile, crinkling in worry lines on her brow. They could blame Sans, but well, he wouldn’t have left if it hadn’t been for Frisk.

If it hadn’t been for Frisk.

That could be said about a lot of things, couldn’t it? If Frisk had spoken up, if Frisk could have found the right words, maybe Undyne wouldn’t have fought Sans. If Frisk hadn’t made Sans so angry, maybe he wouldn’t have been so mean to Alphys. If Frisk hadn’t reset over _eggs_ of all things, maybe Sans wouldn’t have left.

If Frisk hadn’t reset, a lot of things would be better. Toriel could say this entire baking adventure was to get everyone’s mind off of things, but it wasn’t that easy. Everyone could say they forgave Frisk, sure, and Frisk knew in their heart that everyone would. Monsters were like that, they were good, they would forgive even when they shouldn’t. But that wasn’t going to erase Papyrus looking like he’d been slapped, the way Alphys kept muttering how it all made sense and how dumb she felt for not catching on. The way Undyne’s hands had clenched into fists through the story even as she struggled to maintain composure.

They would not hate Frisk. They were monsters. They would never, _could never_ hate Frisk. But they were hurt, and that was the consequence.

Frisk bit their lip. This was right. They knew this was right. In a way it was a relief, to not have to carry that weight anymore, but it seemed so unfair to transfer that weight to their friends instead. No wonder Sans had been so insistent about not telling anybody. They had almost considered taking it all back and resetting, but no, that would be worse. Dishonesty was never okay, yet honesty had left them with this.

The thought brought Frisk back to all kinds of memories. The choice of medicine for mom or food, to lie to Undyne to save her worldview or not to lie, be killed by Asgore to release all monsters or live trapped Underground as a family, to watch all monsters slowly lose hope and die away. To reset to go back to the maze, to let their friends die, or to make their way to the surface and leave Asriel behind.

They were wrong no matter what they did. Yet their family loved them anyway, and somehow that made it worse. Chara was right, monsters really were so much better than them.

“Frisk,” Toriel’s gentle voice broke the train of thought. “This doesn’t look like measuring out flour to me.”

The child blinked in surprise, then flashed a guilty smile.

“Are you doing all right, Frisk?” The boss monster asked, brushing her paws on her apron before putting one on the child’s shoulder.

Frisk nodded, but it must have been a bit too quick, because Toriel let out a sigh. “I’m sorry my child, I’m sure all that talk about what has happened hasn’t helped get your mind off things at all. Here, take the scoop like this, okay? Yes, just like that.” Warm paws guided their motions, taking most of the weight of the flour but still giving the illusion of Frisk dumping the material into a bowl with the other ingredients. “Very good. Now here, can you crack the eggs for me?”

The child physically flinched away from the box on the table. Toriel let out a sigh. “Yes my child, I understand your history. But you cannot let the past rule your future, I would know.” She took an egg in a paw, then took Frisk’s hand in the other, carefully placing small fingers on the smooth surface. “I understand the past few days have been hard. I know that many things before that have been… well, beyond my understanding. You did everything you could back then, and you have done everything you can to set things right now. Sitting there and fretting over things will not change what happened the other day and it will not bring Sans back. It is important to focus on what you can do right now.”

She pulled back her paw, letting Frisk hold the egg in their palm. The boss monster smiled down at them. “You see, my child? It is only an egg. And right now it is a part of this recipe, so the sooner you break it, the sooner we can have peach cobbler.”

Frisk gazed down at the egg for a moment. What could they do right now?

“Hey Toriel, I know I’m in trouble, but can I still lick the cookie dough spoon once you’re all done?” Undyne asked as she scraped the bottom of her oatmeal bowl.

The boss monster let out a sigh. “You’ll get salmonella, Undyne.”

“Sans does it!” The fish monster huffed. “And he’s not here to do it. Frankly, as the other barbarian of this house, I think I should get the honor!” At the thought of Sans, her expression darkened. She set the bowl down, sighing, fingers clenching around the edge of it. “I still can’t believe that asshole… nearly dusts on us, then teleports away! I’m gonna kill him for real when I see him.”

“Now Undyne, that seems counterproductive…” Papyrus winced from where he was stirring the cookie dough.

“I believe we were trying to get _off_ of this subject,” Toriel sighed, her mouth pressing into a thin line. Then, in spite of herself, she began to grumble under her breath as she moved away to measure out sugar. “Though I still can’t believe he went to Asgore’s house instead of staying here. I swear, when that skeleton comes home, I’m going to _kill him_ …”

Undyne let out a gasp of amazement, eye widening. “That’s what I just said!” She exclaimed, slamming a bandaged palm down on the countertop in enthusiasm. “You and me Tori, we oughta-- Ow, ow, why did I do that!?”

Frisk let the chaos wash over them, still staring down at the egg. What they could do? Ever since their most recent reset, they hadn’t done much, to be honest. They had texted Sans, they’d told the story to everyone… but well, that was all talking, something Frisk had never been terribly good at. Now _action_ , that was where their strengths had always been. Back in the Underground, it had been them going from place to place, solving their friends problems and bringing them together. What was all this if not one more problem?

The sound of cracking eggs filled them with determination.

The gentle chime of Toriel’s cell phone echoed through the kitchen. The boss monster let out a gasp and quickly dusted off her paws. “Oh, that must be Asgore!” She exclaimed as she grabbed the phone and flicked it on. “Hello?”

 _“Howdy Toriel, I hope you and the rest of the family are well!”_ Asgore’s familiar baritone boomed from the tiny speaker, clear enough that there was hardly the illusion of a private conversation. All eyes turned to Toriel. Papyrus stirred the cookie dough violently, Alphys reached down to absently wring her tail with her claws. Undyne leaned forward on her stool like a coiled spring, fins perking up. Frisk froze, still partway through reaching for an egg. Everyone watched as Toriel’s brow furrowed in the frustration usually reserved for talks with her ex.

“Yes, Asgore, we are all fine. And you?” At the murmured response, she let out a sigh. “I appreciate the pleasantries, but I would rather hear the news. How is Sans?”

_“Oh, he is fine! He seemed a bit shaky when he woke up and tired, but I got some food into him and he seemed somewhat better. Of course, I assume you can see that for yourself.”_

Toriel’s expression darkened. “What do you mean?”

_“Isn’t he there with you? After dinner he told me he was taking a shortcut home. I didn’t recommend it, of course, but he never has been the type to listen when it comes to his health. I just wanted to check in to make sure he got there safely, now that he’s presumably settled in.”_

“...Sans isn’t here,” Toriel breathed.

_“What?”_

“He never came home,” The boss monster repeated, paws clutching at her apron.

The response was immediate. Undyne was on her feet, Papyrus was shoving the cookie dough bowl aside, Alphys was wiping her claws off to grab for her phone.

“That _asshole_!” Undyne roared. “Of course he’d say he was coming home and then just _ditch_! UGH!”

“Now now, calm down Undyne, I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation!” Papyrus sputtered.

“The GPS says he’s still at Asgore’s, he must have left the phone there…” Alphys let out a panicked whine as she kicked the air with her bare feet, breath coming out faster and faster. “I-it’s okay, maybe I can think of something else, maybe we can find him, it’s gonna be okay, oh _no_ what if something went wrong with his shortcut, I can’t--”

“SILENCE!” Toriel roared, holding up one paw. The response was immediate, the quiet ringing in the aftermath of the chaos as Asgore’s concern continued to crackle over the phone. Toriel took several deep breaths. “Asgore,” She spoke calmly, voice clipped. “While I would love to get into the stupidity of trusting a monster whom I told you _mere hours ago_ is suffering from emotional trauma, we do not have the time. I want you to make calls immediately, we need to start searching. He cannot have gone far, I doubt he has the magic reserves to teleport across the country again. I want you to start organizing search parties. Yes, right away. Undyne, can you get in contact with the dogs?”

“I’m on it,” Undyne said, whipping out her phone. “If we split the dogs between search parties they’ll probably be more effective. Alphys, he’s had like what, seven hours to recover? How far out do you think he could manage?”

“N-no farther than the city limits, I think? But there’s no way for me to know for sure, Sans doesn’t like me running tests on him.” Alphys frowned, shoulders hunching as she focused on the phone in her claws. “But I do have a map and I can help work out manageable search radiuses once we know how many monsters we have…”

“I will help find monsters to help search! Perhaps my coworkers would be willing to help as well, Jeff _does_ owe me a favor,” Papyrus said as he grabbed his own phone. “Plus we can add a few more places to that list we made the other night of places where Sans likes to go. He’d want someplace with food and he’d want to be comfortable…” He trailed off, then let out a groan as he slapped his own forehead. “So help me, if he just went back to our apartment after all this time…”

Everyone fell silent and stared at him. Then, as one, they all groaned.

Undyne shook her head. “Honestly, Paps, you might be right. Yeah, let’s try there first, but I’m calling the dogs anyway. Just going home sounds dumb enough for him, but he’s also _way_ overdramatic right now so I don’t know...”

Frisk frowned as they took all of this in, considering. Then they waved to catch Papyrus’ attention. “ _Can I go with you_ ?” They signed. “ _If he’s not at your apartment, you and me can be a search party_!” This was true, at least partially. They doubted Sans was at the apartment, but if he was they wanted to find the skeleton as soon as possible. Even if he wasn’t there, the next step would be easier with Papyrus.

They had a thought, and they certainly couldn’t carry it out from home.

Papyrus beamed. “That is a wonderful idea! Between the Great Papyrus and Frisk the human, no Sanses shall escape our notice! Er…” He trailed off, looking to Toriel. “Assuming it is all right with your mother.”

Toriel nodded, having taken this time to finish her conversation with Asgore and hang up. “I think that is a good idea, Papyrus. You two hurry to the skeleton’s apartment to make sure he hasn’t gone there. The rest of us will begin organizing-- it is entirely possible he’s just home in bed, but assuming the worst, I would like to get moving on this immediately.”

“Right away, Miss Toriel!” Papyrus chirped, saluting dramatically, then reached out to take the child’s hand. “Come along Frisk, let’s go find that no good brother of mine!”

He received a nod of agreement, though for entirely different reasons as they plopped down to pull on their shoes. They carefully laced up their sneakers right alongside Papyrus, listening as he continued to ramble. “Truthfully, I am not so sure that all of this is necessary. After all that has happened, I’m amazed it’s taken Sans this long to go back. When times are tough, all my brother really wants is a comfortable bed and my delicious spaghetti. If Sans is not at home, where else could he be?”

Frisk smiled as they rose and headed for the door.

Exactly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe you guys seriously thought I was gonna kill Sans or make things reset. There are so many chapters left, haha! I really appreciated the reaction to the cliffhanger last chapter though!
> 
> I am considering writing a one-shot about the Judge Sans concept, just a thing going through how that affects his relationships with all the characters and the Underground as a whole. Maybe one day when I have time, haha.


	9. ghosts in photographs never lied to me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god. So uh... nearly three months later, whoops.
> 
> Hi guys, sorry for the wait. I had a number of life things get in the way. Insane work deadlines. Depression. Tendonitis. Whee. I'm back now and hoping to tie this sucker up in a few chapters. Also this chapter is uh... 31 pages long and is the culmination of quite a bit, so that was part of the reason for the delay. Hope ya'll are ready for some catharsis.
> 
> It took a long time, but I'm very proud of it, so I hope you all enjoy. Please comment and let me know what you guys thought, even if it's just to tell me you enjoyed it? The kudos and bookmarks mean a lot, but an actual comment with words means SO MUCH, even if it's just a simple statement that you're still reading and enjoying. Of course, if there's something in particular you liked or disliked, PLEASE tell me.
> 
> Uh, I think that's it. Chapter title is from Take Me Somewhere Nice by Mogwai.

Sans slept.

He woke.

He slept.  
  
His consciousness drifted, heavy and gray, occasionally breaching into wakefulness as if gasping for air from underwater. His mind was shifting sand, slow half-thoughts that formed before lazily coiling back into nothingness. Occasionally he’d crack an eyesocket open, fighting against the weight long enough to peer at his surroundings. Once his functioning eyelight focused on the familiar cobwebs of his old room in Snowdin, he let himself drift off again. He couldn’t help it. Every time Sans had shut his eyes in the past year had seemed counterproductive, as if the very act was inviting a reset while he failed as sentry. There would be no surprise now. Sure, his old mattress was dirtier than he remembered and he only had one straggler left from his sock collection, but it was still home.

Sans slept for what seemed to be a long time. It may have been days or it may have been hours, it was hard to say. Hours was more likely but it felt longer. Finally the drift slowed to a crawl, as if his mind were finally coming to the end of some sort of long journey. Try as he might, Sans could not seem to get back on the train, so with a sigh he opened his eyes.

Yep. Same cobwebs where he remembered them, though they’d grown in the past year. The wooden rafters of his old house loomed over him like a slumbering beast, their comforting weight echoed by the cavernous ceiling above them. Sans breathed in the dust and the frigid stillness, then breathed out, watched the puff of magic-warmed air rise through the empty tomb.

“Well,” The skeleton murmured to himself, voice echoing back at him. “Guess I can finally say I’ve hit rock bottom.” Sans let out a hollow chuckle as he rolled into a sitting position, sneakered feet dangling off the edge of the mattress. His gaze drifted absently over the grooves in the carpet left by his old desk and treadmill, the couple of candy wrappers left in a corner. A draft blew in from the window behind him and Sans grimaced, tugging his jacket tighter around his shoulders. The motion made a light tearing sound from the hole Undyne’s spear had made in it.

There was a soft curse as Sans exhaled, reaching down to poke two fingers through the hole. Welp. This was what he got for sneaking the thing out of Asgore’s dryer before it was actually fixed. Whatever, it belonged in the trash anyway, so down here was perfect, right?

He was starting to sound like Alphys.

After several minutes of staring blankly into space, the skeleton finally got to his feet. Every bone seemed to protest the motion. His legs nearly buckled beneath him, but he ignored them. It wasn’t like he could keep laying there forever. Well, he could, that had been the original plan. But he couldn’t keep sleeping, so he may as well do _something_.

Sans exited his room and wandered to the room next door. He ran his fingers over graying caution tape and stickers, then reached up to rap his knuckles against the old wood. “Knock knock,” He said, voice echoing through the main room. No response, of course, but he continued anyway as if someone had asked who was there. “Theodore… wasn’t open, so I knocked.” He let out another wheezing chuckle, imagining the usual groan that would have resulted. Then he cracked open the door to Papyrus’ old room, peeking inside and flicking the light switch on reflex.

There was no light, of course, all power from the Core was now being diverted aboveground. Cold winter light peeked in through the window though, illuminating dustmotes and memories. The room was largely empty, the brothers had taken nearly everything with them when they moved. Still Sans could mentally carve the old space back to its original glory, the racecar bed, the pirate flag. He could remember the bookshelf and each individual action figure, how Papyrus had reacted and treated each one like a new friend. His hand clenched on the doorknob. Papyrus, being younger, used to have some trouble reaching this handle, but then he’d gone and shot up and above Sans and well...

Sans just stood there for awhile, taking in the years. Then Sans closed the door, gently. Papyrus had always hated slamming doors when he wasn’t the one slamming them. 

The skeleton made his way out onto the balcony that overlooked the main room, tracing his fingertips along the guardrail, carving shapes in the dust. Then he made his way down the stairs, listened to familiar creaks, mixed them in his mind with the sounds of yet another Mettaton movie marathon. The smell of burnt popcorn from Undyne and Papyrus’ movie nights, the shudder the house would make when Undyne threw the door open and sent the latest snowfall tumbling from the roof. From somewhere in the kitchen came the gentle dripping of the old faucet, a year’s lack of use didn’t seem to be enough to dry up the leak.

Sans made it to the old couch, a fallen soldier Toriel had insisted was far too battered to survive the trip to the surface. He collapsed onto it with a wheeze of breath, chest tight as if the light stroll through the house had been miles. Upon sitting down, however, there was a lump he didn’t recognize.

Brow furrowing, Sans dug past an overstuffed cushion, reaching past ancient pieces of cereal and lint before bony fingers closed around the offending object. He pulled it loose, blinking down at it. Huh. His old phone. Sans had been wondering where the thing had gone, he’d assumed it had been lost in the move.

Flipping it open, Sans took in the familiar spiderweb crack across the screen, the scratches across the number pad. Papyrus had always begged Sans to get a newer model, if only so his brother had fewer excuses to text without punctuation, but Sans always found new action figures and comics at the store more useful than a phone for himself. He pressed a finger against the on switch, then blinked in surprise as the thing beeped to life.

“Looks like we’re still kicking,” Sans murmured to himself as he watched the familiar Undernet logo flicker behind the cracked screen. The time and date on the screen were all wrong of course, but that had been the case long before he lost the phone. He tapped along the numberpad, pulling up his old contacts list. Yep, everyone was still there, stupid nicknames and all. Cool Bro (with as many exclamation points as Sans could fit at the time), Boss Sushi, Hot Buns (Grillby detested that nickname, naturally), Too Turtley for the Turtle Club, Drunk Bunny. The list covered nearly everyone in the Underground at the time, though no one but Sans would have been able to decipher the in jokes. Except for the most recent entry, Kid, which Sans studiously ignored.

He went from the contacts list to his photos, scrolling through them. The camera on his phone wasn’t great, and Sans certainly wasn’t a photographer, so many of them were blurry to the point of being illegible. There were a few dim bar selfies, many at the request of his drunken friends, though Sans couldn’t help but grin at the couple he’d managed to snag of him and Grillby when he’d been brave enough. Most of the images came from moments that Papyrus would insist be documented, which was fine with Sans. Papyrus opening Christmas presents, Papyrus on his first day as Royal Guardsman in Training, Papyrus listening to storytime at the librarby, Papyrus getting a noogie from Undyne, Papyrus on his first date with the Frisk-- both beaming over a plate of artisan spaghetti.

Sans’ hands shook as he came across the photos from that final day. They were actually pretty good, he’d taken them enough times to have practice. They would almost be sweet if it weren’t for Frisk’s redeye, but Papyrus looked so happy, always so happy…

He snapped the phone shut and shoved it into his pocket.

The skeleton took a deep, rib-shuddering breath, the sound echoing through the house. Then he curled in on himself, putting his face in his hands. 

Fuck, this was so stupid. Fuck, fuck, _fuck_. Here he was, it had been a year and they’d finally moved on. It had been a year and he had what he wanted, a family on the surface, a life. Time moving forward, his friends getting jobs, things changing when they hadn’t for so long. All those hopes for the anomaly to finally, truly change things, all those things he said he’d given up so long ago. Logically, things were better now. Everyone was happier now.

Everyone had moved forward and here he was, buried beneath the mountain.

He’d wanted out. Sans knew he had, even when he’d said the surface held no more appeal he hadn’t really meant it. Of _course_ he’d wanted out, wanted Toriel to have her home and family, wanted Papyrus to get that driver’s license he’d always wanted, wanted Alphys to finally move on from her demons, wanted the kid to finally grow…

But the tomb was familiar. The tomb had his arms length audience in their usual seats at Grillby’s, burgers heated up just so because only certain spots on that old grill worked. The tomb had a routine that made sense, even if it involved repeating certain days over and over again. The tomb had memories, so many memories, buried and forgotten and left to rot. Even the repeats where things went wrong, well, at least he knew what to expect. The tomb was home, and it was stupid, but he missed it.

He could have all the new memories on the surface, but he couldn't go home again. Even if time reset, _he’d_ be different, because time made everyone different. No such thing as a repeat even among reruns. Nostalgia was mourning a lack of stasis.

Fuck.

Sans stayed that way for some time. Finally he managed to uncurl, taking several deep breaths. No, he wasn’t going to cry. No. But what else was there to do? Maybe he could head down to the basement and those last monuments to his failure, he could always very literally go lower.

As he went through these thoughts, his eyes flicked absently to one of the windows. His brow furrowed as instead of the usual whiteness outside, he saw a flash of gold…

His soul leaped to his throat. Golden petals.

Standing with shaky legs, Sans stumbled his way toward the door. He had to be imagining things, right? There was only one reason to find golden flowers here in Snowdin, and it never boded well for him or anyone else. But that was impossible, because Frisk _had_ saved those kids, right?

Sans opened the front door.

Yep, golden flowers. Golden flowers everywhere, as far as Sans could see. They poked cheerily up from the snow like coins spilled on the ground, climbed their way up the sides of the vacant buildings. Forgotten holiday lights glittered from within their flower nests like jewels, caught the occasional sharp-toothed shadow of thorns in the vines.The thorns weren’t always so easy to spot under the beauty, but Sans was well-versed in them.

_Thorn-coated vines snapped through the air like whips, scattering the snow where Sans had been seconds earlier. They caught an unfortunate tree instead, snapped it like a twig. Laughter echoed over the roar of his blasters, as if the white hot light was little more than some great joke._

There was a jolt of heat and nausea to join the memory. Sans stumbled out into the snow, clutching at the front of his borrowed shirt. No, no, this wasn’t happening, it was in his head, the flower was gone. Golden flowers did not necessarily mean--

_“Hey Smiley Trashbag, do you wanna know how many of these it took to kill your brother this time?” Laughter echoed over a hailstorm of bullets. “A lot-- turns out he got all the endurance in the family.. Not that it helped him.”_

Sans slammed a palm against a nearby light pole, the motion knocking some snow free. He took a shaking breath, tried to focus on the cool metal on his bones. These were _not_ the memories he wanted to be visiting on this trip, he had to stop. Focus on the cold already making his exposed bones numb, the way his breath clouded on the air, the way the snow seemed to muffle all sound--

Someone was laughing, and it wasn’t him.

It was a subtle thing, soft, light. Sans swallowed, shaking his head. No, just another memory. That was all this was, memories. He had to let them go, focus on the snow, focus on how soft his jacket always felt against the cold, focus on--

More laughter. A chill ran down Sans’ spine. Coming down here had been a mistake, but there was no way he had the magic reserves to shortcut. He should get inside, but home had been tainted by the flowers now. He had to be somewhere else, somewhere familiar-- old Grillby’s, maybe?

He began stumbling in that direction, taking deep, shaking breaths. The walk across town seemed much longer, but he had to try. Maybe it would give him time to get things together. Just focus on putting one foot in front of the other, breathe, look at the librarby-- no don’t, more flowers, don’t look there, _can’t_ look there--

There was a glint of red eyes out in the trees.

Sans’ foot caught a vine and he tripped. He let out a yelp, the sound swallowed up by the snow. The abrupt chill was a shock after the wave of heat and nausea hitting him with the memories-- was it a memory? His eye and insides were burning like the red in his bones, too familiar, everything was fight or flight but he couldn’t run so--

_A sharp-toothed smile loomed over him, too wide, too many teeth. Golden petals wreathed the smile like flames.  “What’s wrong, Sans? Getting tired? Boy, you’re pretty outta shape, aren’t ya, buddy? Should have listened to Papyrus and worked out, maybe all these fights would go a little easier for you if you did.”_

 Blasters roared to life at the memory of Papyrus, the scent of charred vegetation joining oozing sap and pollen. Sans eye burned, he clamped his hands over it, grit his teeth against the high-pitched whine in his throat. No, no, no, it wasn’t real, it wasn’t real, just a memory, it had been a year and there was all this snow and it was summer so--

_Red eyes gleaming at him, the glint of a knife catching the light as a small figure approached. “He has a point, you know. Even with all my practice, you still win most of the time. If you’d actually tried, maybe you could have saved him.”_

“I did try,” Sans choked out into the snow. “I did try, I did, shut up, we already talked about this, you’re not the kid, you talk too much to be the kid, you’re dead, you’re _dead_ …”

_“Hahaha, you think it’ll stick this time? That’s adorable!” The flower cackled from above him, vines coiling around his middle. “Here I thought you were a scientist or whatever. Isn’t doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different result kinda dumb?”_

“D-didn’t have a choice, there was no other option, nothing else I…” His sentence trailed off, got caught on the bile in his throat. He couldn’t talk anymore, couldn’t say the words, shouldn't anyway, this wasn't real, they weren't real.

_“Don’t be mean, Azzy.” The child’s voice was a laugh. “Besides, don’t you get it? He’s not expecting anything different. This is what he wants, because this is all he’s good for.” The edge of the knife pressed against his back, words tickling his skull. “He can’t move on, just like us. So we’ll be stuck here forever, just us and him, fighting until the end of time, cause that’s all any of us are good for.”_

The skeleton’s breath caught, everything spun, was too hot, too warm, too cold, too real, couldn’t--

_More children’s laughter, more vines, fingers reaching up to clutch at his jacket. “Doesn’t that sound like fun, Sans?”_

Sans blacked out.

\---

A familiar ceiling fan loomed above him when Sans woke. The skeleton blinked blearily up at it-- it wasn’t running, but he’d woken under it enough times. Grillby’s was basically a second home, after all.

Sans sat up, frowning as the damp back of his jacket stuck to him. All right, well, he’d definitely fallen outside, though that still didn’t explain how he’d ended up here. Maybe he’d stumbled his way here when he blacked out? He’d certainly managed the way back to his old house while blackout drunk a number of times, so maybe this was the same principle. He glanced around at the couple of tables that had been left behind, dust coating Drunk Bunny’s familiar booth and the last remnants of her bottle graveyard. He chuckled to himself, then rose and made his way over to his old stool.

Every motion shook and he did his best to ignore it as he sat-- there were no more flowers here, after all. He’d probably feel better if he tried to move on. There was a light tapping as Sans rapped his knuckles on the bartop. “Sup, G. Gimme the usual." 

His chuckle died in his nonexistent throat when a bottle of ketchup was slid in his direction.

Sans blinked down at it, as well as the pale hand holding the bottle. Then he glanced up, slowly, taking in a green and yellow striped shirt, going up to spot a heart-shaped locket. The jewelry glinted red in the darkness, matching the fiery eyes above it, the mess of brown hair overshadowing them. “What ails ya, kid?” The child at the bar drawled as they leaned on the countertop.

Sans felt his remaining eyelight dim. “ _You_. Gonna say it's definitely you.”

He snapped his fingers, a blaster appearing in an instant. The motion was like a pulling on an already taut string on his soul. His vision grayed at the edges but his body knew what to do. Energy flickered from inside the beast’s mouth, a flash of light that lit the entire bar. It only barely snapped on before dimming, however. Once, twice, three times Sans pulled the metaphorical string, and on the third one it finally snapped with a soft ‘ _pop_ ’!

The skeleton let out a gasp as the attack dissipated in a cascade of sparks and dust, clutching at his chest. The room spun, his insides churned and his vision grayed. Sans’ head dropped to the countertop with a groan. He curled inward on the stool, a wave of hot nausea running through him for what felt like the millionth time.

“Uh. Whoa. You okay there? You’re not gonna throw up or anything, are you?”

“N-no…” Sans wheezed into the familiar wood, breath coming out in hot puffs. “It’s… it’s fine…”

There was a sigh. Then came a clinking sound and running water. There was a grumbling noise, a splash, followed by more running water. After a minute there was a thud, as well as another splash. Sans looked up to see a dripping glass of water placed in front of him. “Drink it. Or don’t, I’m not your mom.” The child behind the bar muttered as they glared at him.

“Why, so you can poison me?” Sans growled back.

They flinched at the words, then covered it with a harsh laugh. “Poison’s messy. I wouldn’t wish that experience on anybody. It’s water and it looks like you need it, so drink up.”

Sans glared at them for another moment. Then, hesitantly, he reached out to take the glass and downed it. It certainly _seemed_ like water, though the taste was somewhat metallic. Then again, the pipes had been quiet for some time. He made quick work of the liquid, then set the glass down, never once breaking eye contact with the child in front of him. “I’d say thanks, but seeing how you’re the one that nearly gave me a soul attack in the first place…”

“It’s not my fault you’re so jumpy,” The child muttered.

It was the skeleton’s turn to laugh harshly. “Uh no, gonna go out on a limb here and say that it is, kiddo.”

Small fingers clenched on the countertop. “I’m trying to be _nice_ here, you asshole.”

“Yeah, I can see that. Then again, your standards for nice are pretty low, anything’s a step up after _stabbing_.” 

The child flinched, the noise out of their mouth something like a laugh. “Sure, sure, that’s fair. Why don’t I go ahead and do that again? You’re down here because it’s familiar, right? So let’s come full circle, I’ll stab you, you’ll _punish me_ , we’ll be here forever, just the two of us, because that’s all we’re good for, right?”  Their words came out in a panicked rush, something familiar about them giving Sans pause. But as they grew in ferocity they also became laughter, something high and cold and terrible as red eyes pierced right through him. “I should have known! I should’ve… fine, fine, let’s get back to it right? Let’s just get--”

“ _Chara_ ,” Two arms encircled the child from behind, small white paws clutching at their shirt. “Chara, it's okay. Breathe.”

The child froze, red eyes wide. They took a deep breath, still glaring at Sans, then let it out. “He started it,” They muttered.

“Well, we did scare him first.” The second child’s voice was warm, matching the fanged smile and gentle eyes peeking over Chara’s shoulder. That smile turned guilty as those dark eyes flicked to Sans. “Sorry about that, Sans. Chara and I were just playing around, we didn’t know you were here. If we’d known we woulda been more careful.”

Chara rolled their eyes as they crossed their arms. “It’s not our fault he can’t handle kids laughing in their own damn home without freaking out and having weird flashbacks, Azzy.”

“Well, it kind of is…” The monster murmured. At those words, Chara slumped more in his hug. “Maybe you could try apologizing? Wasn't that the point of this?”

“Don't tell _him_ that!” Chara hissed, face reddening. There was a few moments of silence as they looked anywhere but the skeleton at the bar. “Sorry we gave you some kind of horrible psychotic break or whatever,” The child finally mumbled.

Sans blinked at finally being directly addressed. “Um. I mean it’s not cool and we have other problems but uh… sure?”

Chara huffed in response and their monster companion sighed. “Guess we’ll take it,” Small arms retreated from their hug, though a white paw still reached down to take Chara’s hand. The free one waved as the monster came to stand beside their friend. “Here, I’ll properly introduce myself. Howdy Sans, I’m Asriel. AsrieI Dreemur.”

Sans grinned blankly. “Uh. Yeah. Hi. We’ve… met. Kinda.” He had spent this entire exchange simply staring. Maybe he was still experiencing that aforementioned psychotic break. Maybe he was so low on magic that he was hallucinating. It certainly made more sense than the idea that his worst nightmare was just standing there, being gently bullied into apologizing by the long dead Prince of the Monsters.

“I guess that’s true. I’d rather think of Flowey as a different person, but… well, that’s not really fair, is it?” Asriel’s fangs quirked in a sad smile, so much like his mom. The sadness in those gentle eyes reminded Sans more of the King, however. There was a weight there, one that did not belong on such a young face.

The skeleton gave a hum. “I dunno, kid. You got any thorns under that fur I should know about?” He reached up to tap the top of his own skull.

“I uh… I don’t think my horns are ever coming in?” Asriel said, smile growing sadder.

“Yeah, that makes sense. Relax, I was just _kidding_ around.” Sans snorted at his own joke.

The boss monster blinked at him.

Chara gave a snort of their own. “Azzy, it’s a pun.”

“What!?” Asriel sputtered.

Sans nodded. “They’re right. You should listen to your friend, they _goat a sharp mind_.”

“H-hey!” Asriel yelped as Chara snorted again.

The skeleton gave a chuckle as he propped his skull in his hands. “All right, all right, I _goat_ plenty more, but let’s get down to business. What are you two doing down here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Chara said pointedly, red eyes narrowing into a glare again.

That got a frown. “Uh, no. I have the luxury of still being alive. Last I heard, you two had moved on to greener pastures or whatever. Not to be rude, but you two are _way_ past your expiration date.” 

“You’re one to talk,” Chara’s voice had dipped into a growl again, drumming their fingers on their own crossed arms. “Also, gonna go out on a limb here and say that ‘expiration date’ is a pretty rude thing to say to a pair of dead kids.”

“H-hey, look, I found chips!” Asriel chirped as he popped up from where he’d been shuffling under the counter. He set a faded bag of chips on the counter, then tugged them open. There was a surprising puff of air as he peeled back the plastic.

Both Chara and Sans blinked. Then, automatically, Sans reached out to take a chip and toss it into his mouth. “Speaking of expiration dates,” He crunched thoughtfully, then swallowed. “These are surprisingly good. And not stale.”

Chara scowled as they took a chip themself, then chomped on it. “Ugh. Sour cream and onion. You would.” They muttered, nose wrinkling.

“Not my fault I have good taste. Juuuuuuust like these chips.” Sans shrugged as he took another chip and munched on it. He watched as Chara’s nose wrinkled again, so similar to Frisk’s reaction when they had to eat something they didn’t like. “You don’t _have_ to eat them,” He pointed out automatically.

The child huffed. “I don’t want them anyway. I’d rather have jalapeno.” They took another chip anyway.

Sans considered that for a moment as he chewed. “The spice demon who comes when called, huh? Interesting.”

Frisk liked spice too.

Chara snickered at Sans’ joke. “So what happened to your eye?” They asked as they gestured to their own. “Coulda swore that one only went out when you were killing kids.”

They got a shrug in response. “Y’know. Shot my eye out,” Sans spoke through a jawful of chips. “Turns out the department store Santa and Papyrus were right. Be careful with toy guns, kids.”

“Anyway!” Asriel clapped his paws together, interrupting the banter. “We should probably explain how we’re here. You want to know, right?”

Sans nodded. “I mean, it’d be nice. I’d say it’s not every day I see kids rise from the dead, but that’s inaccurate.”

Asriel flashed a slightly pained smile at that but continued. “So um… we… Okay so first we died but then… oh, maybe I shouldn't say that, I don't...” He trailed off, already looking uncomfortable as he looked to Chara. He seemed unsure of how to proceed.

Chara met his eyes. Then they took a deep breath and began to speak.“A long time ago… a human climbed Mount Ebott. I should be clear-- they were not a good child. This would be a better story if they were a good child, but they weren’t. They were born too early, too small, with red eyes like a demon. They were loud, and angry, and they asked too many questions about things they weren’t supposed to. Everyone in the village knew the child was bad. Everyone felt bad for their parents. The child was…” Chara trailed off, rubbing absently at their arms. For the first time, Sans noticed faded scars. “...They got in trouble a lot. The child was so bad, they were too lazy to even try to be good. So they ran away, up the mountain, up to the place where supposedly no one ever returned.”

“When they made it to the top of the mountain, they found a hole. When they saw the hole, they decided throw themselves down it, to stop existing. If they could not be good, it would be better to not exist. So... they jumped.” The words were cold, things that should be cracking with their fragility. But Chara’s words were not fresh wounds but scars, old wounds now viewed from a distance. They were echos of the tug Sans felt on rooftops and bridges, had his own lack of throat closing over the familiarity.

“But they survived,” Chara continued, not noticing the way Sans had flinched. “They survived and they called for help… and that’s where they met Asriel, Prince of the Monsters.” Red eyes flicked over to the boss monster and Chara flashed a small smile. “The child met the whole Royal Family and they welcomed the child as if they were their own. They were the family the child never had and Asriel was the child’s best friend.”

A warm blush flickered beneath Asriel’s fur. “Shucks Chara, it’s kinda weird to hear you be so nice when I’m right here.”

“You deserve it,” Chara declared firmly as they they reached out to thread their small fingers with Asriel’s paw. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, Azzy.”

“O-oh gosh!” Asriel sputtered, blush spreading across his entire face now.

Sans snorted as he watched the display. Asriel really was remarkably like his parents.

“Anyway…” Chara looked away again. “You already know this part of the story. The child lived with monsters for a time and they were loved. The whole Underground loved them, even though they were bad. The monsters called the human and the prince their hope-- the future of humans and monsters. “ A bitter laugh came from their lips. “How dramatic, right? It's a lot of pressure to put on two kids, actually. But it’s not the monsters’ fault they chose wrong.”

The child let out a shaky sigh before continuing, free hand gripping the bottom of their sweater. “The child… knew the monsters were wrong. It was impossible for someone like them to bring hope to the people. But there had one good thing, one thing nobody else in the Underground had, and that was a human soul.” Their teeth clicked together on the word, fists tightening on the fabric in their hands. “They had thought… maybe if they died, maybe the prince could take their soul and cross the barrier. Then together they’d… six souls wouldn’t be such a bad price if they were from six other bad people, right? Seven dirty human souls are still human souls. So the child thought… maybe…”

Sans’ brow furrowed. “So the story about the kid who got sick… that was on purpose, then?”

Chara gave a quick nod, chewing on their lip.

“I’m sorry Chara,” Asriel spoke up. “I know I’ve said it before, but I shouldn’t have let it happen, I should have--”

“No!” Chara cut him off, voice hard as they jerked their hand from his grasp. “We’ve been over this. You did nothing wrong Azzy. Even if you hadn’t gone through with it, I still would’ve…” They were visibly shaking as they trailed off now, a hardness in every line of their young face. “The child would have died. It was all they were good for. And yes, I know it’s bad to think that, but I still do.” Red eyes flicked down to the dusty bartop. “Sorry.”

“So the child poisoned themself on purpose. The child died. Then, as planned, the Prince took the child’s soul. Once the souls were united, the child took their body and the two of them crossed the barrier.” They were digging their nails into their own arms now, creating pinpricks of reddened skin beneath their sweater. “The child tried to use their power to go through with the plan. It would have been easy, after all. We-- they, they were a God. And those humans deserved it, there’s no doubt about that. But the Prince refused to fight.”

Asriel flinched at their side. “It… it wasn’t right, Chara. We couldn’t do it. Even if they were attacking us, I couldn’t--”

“I already told you, you were right.” Chara muttered. “It was wrong of me to put that on you. It was… monsters have always been too good, that was why they were Underground in the first place. It was wrong of me to put that kind of weight on you. Humans can kill. Humans almost always kill. Monsters… I mean sure, they can if they have to, but it takes a lot to get to that point. Heck, they’re more likely to kill by accident than on purpose. So of course you couldn’t do it and I shouldn’t have expected you to.”

Sans watched this small argument take place in silence, frowning. This story was certainly not what he’d always been told, but he supposed it was in line with what he understood about both children. “So if it had just been you,” He spoke up suddenly, curious. “Do you think you would have done it? Killed six humans, I mean.”

Chara looked back at him, face blank. “I don’t know. Probably. If you hadn’t made that promise to Toriel, would Frisk have ever made it out of the Ruins?”

The skeleton winced at the memory of a small body broken on the snowy ground. “...I don’t know. Probably.”

That got a nod of understanding before Chara continued. “Anyway. Both children died, but that’s not the end of the story.”

“I woke up first,” Asriel piped up. “Which I think I told you once already.”

Sans felt his eyelight darken. “Yeah, uh, that might’ve slipped out. Somewhere between that time you literally ripped Alphys apart or the fifth time you killed my brother. Raw Determination has some messy results when it’s mixed with a dusty, soulless flower, huh?”

Asriel flinched.

“That’s not his fault,” Chara growled. “You’ve never been without a soul, you can't understand.”

“Uh, no, I think I have an idea. Unlike you, this guy _loves_ to monologue.” Sans grumbled as he gestured to the cringing Asriel. Maroon eyes watered and the skeleton grit his teeth as he felt his emotions pushing to the surface again. “Nope, sorry kiddo, it’s gotta be said. You couldn’t feel anything, and yeah, I get it, that’s rough. You were desperate for a change, any change. Hell, I’ve been there, in a sense. And of course after what happened to you, you’d feel pretty bitter. I can see how something like that would warp somebody. A lack of empathy makes it easy to not see other people as people, hell, you told me that. But it being understandable doesn’t make it okay. Your problems are never an excuse for your actions." 

“I wasn’t expecting it to,” Asriel whispered, tears dampening his fur. He reached up to clutch at one of his ears, squeezing it between his paws as he spoke. So similar to his mom but no, no, that didn't matter. “I know I hurt you. I hurt everybody. A lot. I-I just wanted to apologize to you. I knew it was wrong then, of course I did, but I still did it. I know it’s not okay and it never will be. If I could take it back I would.”

Sans gripped the edge of the bar. The wood creaked. “Yeah? That’s nice, kiddo. Hindsight doesn’t take back all those little ‘games’. You can reset time all you want, it doesn’t change anything. You killed everyone and I still--”

BANG! Chara slammed their hands on the bartop, hard. “Stop it! Stop it! You _ass_ , I don't believe you! All that talk about remorse and thinking about your actions, and when Azzy fucking _apologizes_ , you treat him like dirt!?”

Asriel gave a whimper, still squeezing his ear “I-I deserve it, Chara, I--”

“Look at his soul!” The human snarled. They rounded on Sans, hands clenched into fists, red eyes like fire. “Go on, big bad judge, weigh his soul! Do your _job_ before you talk shit about him!”

Sans blinked. Then, wordlessly, he reached out with his magic. A soft _‘ping’_ echoed through the empty bar as Asriel’s soul flickered blue from beneath his sweater. It floated in Sans’ grip, wavering, shaky, held together by threads of six different colors and weighted with regret.

“Well?” Chara spat out.

“It’s clean,” The skeleton murmured, releasing Asriel with a wave of his hand. “Way too thin for a regular soul, for sure, but clean. Which is… surprising.”

“It’s called remorse, jackass. You know, that thing you’re constantly preaching about along with your big, scary consequences?” Chara growled as they folded their arms. “Yeah, that’s right, we went and did it. Do you have any idea how heavy remorse is for people like us?”

Sans swallowed the memory of snapping bones, of blood and gold. “...I’ve got an idea of it, sure.”

Chara gave a harsh, quick laugh. “Liar. You can pretend to know, but it’s not the same. You killed, yeah, but _we_ …” They chewed on their lip for a moment. “We know we hurt people. We hurt _a lot_ of people. We hurt each other. It’s… it’s a lot, when you stop to realize it. It’s worse than dying at first, really, and we would know. It’s too mu--” Their voice cracked on the last word, teeth clamping down on the emotion in their throat.

“No, no Chara, it’s okay,” Asriel insisted as he scrubbed at his face. He flashed Sans a watery smile. “Yeah, I regret what I did. I wish I could take it back. But me regretting it doesn’t undo what I did to your brother, does it?”

That got a shaky breath in response as Sans’ teeth clicked together. There was a lot he could have said, memories of Papyrus’ smiling face, dust in the air, Rants about trust and his brother’s long arms shielding a snickering flower in the snow. Tears streaming down cheekbones even as Papyrus insisted this was okay and how could it ever be okay, how could _anything_ ever--

The skeleton shook his head. “Well, you did take it back,” he spoke quickly, forcing his smile back into place. “Pretty literally. Pap’s fine, better than fine. You should try his lasagna, it’s--”

“Sans,” Asriel interrupted him, teary face gentle. “It’s okay to be mad about it.”

The smile dropped.

“It’s okay if you hate me,” Asriel took a shaky breath before continuing. “I am sorry, I really am, but it doesn’t change stuff and I know that. I did awful things to you. Awful things to your friends. Your brother trusted me every time and I still… I treated him like a pawn in this stupid game we were playing. If it weren’t for you, I would have stolen the six human souls and ruined everything. I made you stop me again and again. I stole weeks, months, _years_ of time from you. I--” 

“ _Stop_.” Sans choked out, putting his face in his hands. He squeezed his eyesockets shut against his palms, pushed against them as if he could shove the swell of emotion back. The three of them sat in awkward silence for a moment as Sans took a few deep breaths. When he opened his eyes again Asriel was sitting there, staring at him with the same teary eyes.

“Ugh. You’re just like your dad.” The skeleton murmured as he looked away. He broke the tension with a forced chuckle. “That’s just not fair, bud, you look like I just kicked a puppy or something.”

Asriel let out a bleating, sad little laugh. “S-sorry. Whenever dad got in trouble with mom, she’d get so frustrated with him.”

Chara let out a laugh in spite of themselves. “‘Gorey, please, I am trying to be _mad_ at you’!” They did an impressive rendition of Toriel’s voice, though Asgore’s nickname made Sans cringe. “‘Stop with that face this _instant_ ! I am allowed to be _miffed_ with you, Asgore Dreemur!’”

The three of them shared a small snicker. “She does that with me all the time,” Sans murmured. His voice grew fond as he propped his chin on his hands. “‘Sans, please, I have asked you time and again to use a coaster!’ So great. She and my bro actually care about what happens to the furniture. I’d never even think about it. But y’know, it means things won’t look like we pulled them out of a garbage dump five years from now, so I can appreciate it.”

Red eyes gazed at him, small fingers picking at a sweater. “Are they happy?” Chara spoke so quietly that Sans almost didn’t hear them.

The skeleton smiled sadly. “Yeah,” He said as he dropped one hand. He began to trace a finger along the old wood, lazily creating shapes. “Everyone is. Everybody but me.”

“...Even Frisk?” The words were so small, so lonely, a hand reaching out to a void that would never reach back.

Sans felt his brow furrow. “Uh, yeah. Of course they are. Are you kidding me? They have the happiest life a kid could ask for. They have this big ol’ monster family who loves and adores them, a great school, a cool job as ambassador. They have everything they could ever...” Sans trailed off.

He could argue that everybody had what they wanted. Everyone else was happy because their hopes and dreams had been realized, because they couldn’t remember a time when they weren’t. The only one who couldn’t move on was Sans because he knew it all, right? 

But that wasn’t entirely true.

“...What did you do?” Chara asked, their words cold.

The skeleton flinched. “I--”

“If you hurt them, I will never forgive you.” The child snarled.

That got a snort in response. “Oh, you won’t forgive me? Big words kiddo, I--”

Chara slammed their hands on the countertop again. “What happened with Frisk, comedian!?”

Red eyes pinned him in place-- or were they black and dripping ichor, the snarl a wicked smile? For an instant, Sans was not the one judging. It was not golden light but the pits of those eyes weighing him down, a self-inflicted and well-deserved infection? 

Sans swallowed and looked away, gaze going to the dusty floor. “I… I didn’t hurt them, not really. It was stupid. I’m sure you two have noticed that sometimes Frisk still resets-- never going back here, of course. It’s just little things. Tori got caught in the rain with her pies? Reset, make sure she brings an umbrella this time. My bro has a run-in with some racist assholes at the store? Reset, find a way to distract him. Break some eggs? Reset.” Sans let out a bitter chuckle at the last one.

He reached up to run his fingers over his skull. “Logically, I know they don’t mean anything bad by it. Hell, it’s the opposite, obviously, and it’s not like I can blame them. I may partially be at fault, given all those times I asked you guys about responsibility with that kind of power. If you have the power to rewrite things, to make them better, isn’t it wrong not to use it?” He shrugged. “Heck if I know. I could argue about facing consequences, but it’s not like I have a bead on exactly what should and shouldn’t be followed through. If I did, I wouldn’t be down here.” 

Sans let his hand drop to his lap, fiddling with the strings of his jacket. “So Frisk resets. Not all the time, but enough. And it kinda freaks me out, which I think is fair.”

“Did you tell them?” Chara interrupted.

A flickering eyelight blinked back at them. “Uh… no, I didn’t. But I thought it’d be obvious, right?”

Chara glared at him.

Sans huffed, focusing on the strings of his jacket again. “Whatever. No, I didn’t tell them. It doesn’t matter anyway, right? It’s their power and there’s nothing I can do about it, that’s how it’s always been. It’s not like they do anything bad with it anyway, _I’m_ the one who can’t let go of when that wasn’t the case.”

“So what, you’re sulking because of that?”

“No!” Sans snapped. “It’s not…” He winced. “The other day, Frisk reset. They were baking with Tori, they spilled some flour, they happened to be holding a knife.”

Chara flinched. Sans gave a sharp almost laugh through his nostrils at the reaction. “Yep. Just a bad combination, obviously. I uh… kinda freaked out. Like I was seconds away from blasting them all the way back to the Underground freaked out. In front of the whole family.”

Asriel let out a gasp, breaking his silence. “Are they okay!?”

“They’re all right. I stopped myself in time…” Sans winced. Amongst all the chaos, he hadn’t thought much of what might have happened if he’d had less control. The remembered smell of charred flesh turned his insides once again. Add that to the mental image of Toriel’s horrified eyes, Papyrus screaming--

“Did you apologize?” Chara broke through the imagined scene, voice cold.

“Uh….” The skeleton’s brow furrowed. “I… might’ve? Probably not. I was in a pretty big rush to get outta there. Didn’t want to accidentally fry anybody.”

“But you went back and apologized.” Red eyes glared at him. When Sans didn’t respond, Chara let out frustrated hiss of breath. “Seriously? This was days ago, right? What the hell have you even been doing?”

A nervous grin flashed across Sans’ face. He reached up to tap his own cheekbone. “Uh… not much? Visited Mettaton for a bit in Hollywood. Got in a dumb fight with Alphys over the Undernet. Got into an actual fight with Undyne, it was pretty metal. Mostly I’ve just been drinking a lot of… ketchup. By the way, don’t do that kids. Stay in school, remember DARE.”

The child across the bar was gaping at him through the whole spiel, red eyes wide. Asriel stood next to them, just looking confused. “Why would you do all that?”

Sans shrugged. “Heck if I know. Poor decisions happen. All I seem to be good for is making a lot of ‘em.”

“...You idiot,” Chara hissed, fingertips clenching the countertop. Their mouth had snapped shut, teeth clicking-- no, grinding together, their eyes burning coals. Sans flinched on reflex at the look, his own eye flashing blue. The hands didn’t move however, and neither did he.

“Guys,” Asriel spoke up. “Please. Aren't we done with this?”

There was a deep breath before Chara forces themselves to release the table. “Obviously _he’s_ not,” They hissed, eyes still burning holes in Sans’ chest. “You haven't changed a bit, have you, comedian? Can't be bothered to say a damn word even when the world's crumbling around you. If you’d talked to Frisk, you could have avoided _a lot_ of this.”

Sans gave a growl. “Big words from the End of the World and their best friend. I _tried_ talking, I talked a whole lot back when my biggest problem was a damn _weed_.” Asriel flinched, but Sans didn't back off. “Either nobody believes me or it does nothing to save anybody. Papyrus trusts his new best friend and dies. Alphys and I fight him but she's crushed by her own mistakes. I try to tell Toriel what her little angel would have done and she still looks at me like I’m lower than dirt. There's no winning, so why play?”

“Oh yeah, because I wouldn't have _any_ idea what that's like!” Chara snarled back. “Neither of us would have a clue what hopelessness feels like, it's not like we were missing _souls_ or anything!”

A cold laugh rattled deep in Sans’ ribs. “Oh yeah, _that_ makes me feel for you, murderer! You--”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” Chara abruptly shrieked, tears coming to their eyes. “You don't get it! You’ll never get it! I was wrong, I know it was wrong, I knew it was wrong the first time we killed! I was supposed to be _dead_ , don't you get it!?”

Their words hung in the dusty air. More rushed to fill the silent hole Sans was left with.

“I was supposed to die, that was the only thing that I could do, and I couldn't even do _that_ right! I died, I woke up and then I found out everything went wrong! Azzy was ruined and it was all my fault and then we were both _stuck_ on my stupid path!” Chara spat out, their first tears streaking down their rosy cheeks. “I was so _mad_. If we’d failed, at least he’d be at peace. I had to fix it. I had to save him and there was this thought, this idea that wasn't mine, this stupid curiosity. I… I can't explain it.” They reached up to clutch at their head, squeezing their eyes shut. More tears slipped out. “Who am I kidding, it sounds like an excuse, right? Some voice only I could hear? I dunno if Frisk could hear them or not, but I don't think so. They could sometimes be a bit of a brat if I suggested heckling a monster but once we learned it hurt someone, Frisk would say no. Killing… that was a bit of everything, I guess. Frisk’s fear. My anger. And that curiosity, that voice that wasn't mine. In the end it all came together, but… it was mostly my anger and that _thought_.”

They let their hands drop, opting instead to scratch at their own arms. Their words tumbled out in a choked sob. “If I’d been more, maybe things would be different. But that's all I'm good for, just anger and a whole lot of sarcasm. And the voice was right, we had to try. I taught Azzy the world was kill or be killed, so what if I got his attention that way? If I got his attention, maybe I could bring him back. Then we could reset the timeline, bring all the monsters back and break the barrier like we originally planned. Start the war.” They let out a broken laugh at this, digging harder into their sleeve. “Stupid, right? Monsters aren't meant for war. Dad and Mom knew that. Azzy knew that. I should have listened. But I was so mad, so mad, and every time we killed there was that _voice_. Killing got so easy. It made me so strong. It loved my stupid jokes and Frisk kept being quiet, so at least I had _some_ company. I couldn't stop. But Azzy…”

“I should have said no. But by the time we made it to you, it was too much. Too much LOVE. Too angry. All I could do was kill. I couldn't reach Azzy, so I put him out of his misery. And then it was just me and the voice and I had to make them understand what I’d done, what _we’d_ done, so I…” They reached up to touch their own head again. Then they laughed. It was a high, broken keen, one that sounded more like a dying animal.

“You’d think stabbing myself in the head would do it. But I came back. I came back and the voice and anger were still there. Hilarious, right?” They glanced up at Sans, wide eyes brimming with tears. “Isn't it funny?" 

“...Nah,” Sans finally breathed out. “It's the least funny thing I’ve ever heard. And I hear my own jokes every day.”

That got a mucus-filled snort.

“Here Chara,” Asriel finally spoke up. He reached over to gently mop away their tears with a paper towel. “Deep breaths, you're okay. It's okay, I’m here. You’re okay." 

Chara shook their head, voice thick as they continued to sob. “It's not, it’ll never be okay, I never--”

“It _is_ okay, Chara,” The monster’s voice was firm as he took their hands into his paws. “I know it feels bad. I feel the same. But we're different now. We’re back now. And I know it's really heavy… but it's okay if we have each other, right?”

Chara shook their head even as they buried their face into his shoulder. “I'm no good for you, this isn't--”

“Shhh.”

As the two fallen children of the Underground embraced, Sans felt incredibly out of place. It felt too intimate, too honest. He averted his eye, feeling something thick and gross crawling down his spine. The bar was silent for a few moments, save for quiet sobs and reassurances.

Sans glanced up again as they quieted, blinking in surprise. When the two children entwined he could see it surprisingly clearly-- not one soul but two, one translucent white, one a faded red. Both were faint and pulsed in time. Both were held together with six different colors of twine.

“What’s with the thread?” Sans wInced when he realized he’d asked the question aloud. 

The two children finally untangled, Chara’s eyes puffy. The child looked drained. Asriel, however, seemed bashful as he reached up to clutch his chest self consciously. “Oh, that. It’s a gift from the other lost souls. They um… kinda came together to help Chara and I. We told them they could go free but they stayed. So they’re here too.”

“Sounds crowded.” Sans forced a casual grin.

Asriel shook his head and smiled. “It’s like having a family again. I missed it.”

The skeleton considered these words, then nodded. He turned to Chara. “So that's it then? Feel remorse heavier than the weight of the world, buy yourself some kinda soul hybrid?”

Chara shrugged, though their voice was still much more subdued. “Sort of. It's… hard to explain. By feeling remorse, by remembering ourselves… it was a start, though not enough. Souls have some pretty important traits, after all. Patience, Integrity, Kindness, Perseverance, Bravery, Justice. That's why we needed the other souls help. Convincing them was almost as hard as calling out to Azzy, but Frisk's a pretty good talker when they want to be. It was hard, but we did it. We’re stuck here, but we're together. We can go anywhere the flowers go… it's not much of a life, but it's something.”

“Sounds like a hell of an adventure,” Sans murmured.

“Yeah, well, I’m a little storied out, sorry,” Chara snorted.

That got a sigh. “Yeah. About that. I… appreciate you telling me what happened. And it sounds real intense. I can't say I fully buy this 'voice’ thing, but I'm talking to two time travelers, so what do I know?” He shrugged. “And it sounds like you’ve got some real demons to wrestle with. It's a cool motive, but it's still murder.”

A nod. “That's fair. That's what I liked about you, after all.”

Sans blinked.

Chara snickered. “Sorry, stabbing you is a weird way to show affection. But you were the only one who ever really understood. Most monsters are too kind… even Undyne, fighting her had more to do with her being a hero than me. To her I was some unstoppable force to vanquish. But you… you saw me for what I was. You saw me as human, you judged my mistakes and delivered justice. It was such a relief.”

Sans felt his brow furrow. “So what, you like me because I kicked your ass? That's, uh, that's a little weird, pal.”

He got a huff in response, the rush of breath ruffling Chara’s bangs. “Whatever. I just liked you because you had standards, okay? You were consistent. You saw me for what I was and you never let me forget it.”

The skeleton frowned. “That's great and all, but it's not like it matters. I gave you every speech I could think of, didn't change a damn thing. Admiring Jiminy Cricket is great and all, but if you don't learn, there's no point.”

“I did learn!” Chara protested. “I learned my actions have consequences. I learned even a reset doesn't change things. I learned that just because time could reset, it didn't mean it wouldn't affect me, it wouldn't affect Frisk. I learned…” They trailed off, swallowing, before glancing down at their shaking hands.

“Do you remember why I stopped?”

Sans said nothing. Chara continued.

“I felt so trapped. We’d killed so many times, _so many_ , but it never got Azzy’s attention. I lashed out at the voice for pushing us to make violence so easy. I kept Frisk away from them, did my best to show the voice at the end there were consequences for our actions, just like you taught us. It didn't matter. The thought that if we just kept at it enough times, the game would change… it wouldn't leave. We kept going and going. Even when we mixed things up, even when we made it to the surface… we were still stained. I was hurting so bad. I wanted to lash out, sometimes I did, but killing on the surface was somehow an even worse betrayal to you and Frisk than everything else. I was bad. So what was left?”

Chara let out a broken little laugh, wrapping their arms around themselves. “I tried to die. That was all I was good for, after all. I couldn't save AsrieI. I couldn't save anybody. But dying again and again… at least that would be filling out karma, right? So I died and I died and I died… and then one day, you wouldn't let me.”

Sans felt his breath catch.

“You spared me. You _really_ spared me. I was so confused. I was so mad. How dare you stop me? How dare you not do the one thing I could count on you for? You were the one thing I could count on, the one person who understood… and just like that, you changed? I screamed. I screamed _a lot_. But then you said--”

“'I’m tired. Aren't you?’” Sans interrupted quietly. He watched Chara's face as he continued to speak. “I couldn't keep killing Frisk. I couldn't. I didn't know what was up with you, but I knew you weren't them. And I knew Frisk was in there somewhere. And I just… couldn't. Which was stupid, of course. For all I knew, all those times Frisk was kind to my bro, all those lunches at Grillby's, maybe it was all a lie. But even if it was fake, I knew they were capable of it… I knew _you_ were capable of it. And that was important." 

Chara flashed a sad smile. “I was so angry. It didn't make any sense. You died or I died, that was just how it worked. I yelled at you for being too lazy to be mad. You just told me you _were_ mad, but it didn't matter. You said I’d paid enough. You said it was done. You said you were trying forgiveness.”

Sans snorted as he propped his jaw in his hand. “Yeah, _that_ went well. You just kept saying I couldn't forgive you. What a brat.”

The two let out something between a laugh and a sigh. Chara spoke first. “So you do remember, then.” 

“Sure. I figured it didn't matter, since you stabbed yourself again.” He eyed the child’s chest pointedly, right where the heart locket hung.

Chara swallowed. “You said I’d paid enough. I disagreed. After all, I killed everyone to get there. It was only fair.”

“You don't get to choose what’s fair,” Sans grumbled.

Chara said nothing to that.

Sans sighed. “What are you getting at? I know that was the last reset. Guess I got through to you, and that's great and all. I forgave you. You used that big emotional revelation to save the Underground or whatever. It's done, what’s left to talk about?”

“W-well first of all, you lied. You haven't forgiven anybody.” AsrieI pointed out, finally speaking up again.

Sans scowled. “Sure I have. You’re both here and kind of alive, Frisk's got a nice cushy life on the surface, isn't that good enough?”

“Saying you forgive somebody isn't the same as doing it, Sans,” The boss monster said gently. “I would know. It involves a lot of things… like…” He trailed off for a moment, eyes flicking shyly to Chara. “When we first talked, Chara and I, we both had to admit we were wrong. And I had to admit I was hurt and mad. There's been… a lot to talk about. If I didn't admit I was hurt, if I didn't admit I was mad at Chara or myself… I’d still be Flowey. And even after admitting it, I had to give it time to heal.” He fidgeted with his ears as he spoke, voice subdued.

Chara nodded, leaning their head on his shoulder. “It was rough. That was a lot of the final fight was about, actually. Us talking. Us being honest. That's what healed us.”

Sans felt his teeth clench so hard they hurt. “Gee, thanks for the life advice. But I’m an adult, I think I can handle my own shit.”

“Liar. You _never_ handle your own shit.” Chara said pointedly. “That's why you're here in the first place-- which is _bullshit_ , by the way. You sure preach a lot about honesty, about responsibility, about being held accountable, but when push comes to shove, you can't be bothered.”

Sans felt his eye blink out. “You can't seriously be lecturing _me_ on accountability.”

Chara smiled. It was not kind. “I learned from the best. So let's do this judgement thing, shall we? You killed kids, after all. Not just me, don't think Patience and Kindness haven't clued us in on what happened, Mister Dead-Where-You-Stand. What would my mom think, huh?”

Sans said nothing.

“How about all those times Papyrus died?” Chara murmured, cocking their head to the side. “All those times you just gave up? Sure, you have a great motive, and it's understandable. You were tired after all, depressed, hurt. What's the point in trying? I can see why you’d think that but let's face it, if it were _me_ in your place--”

“I never said that was okay.” Sans grumbled.

“Uh huh. What about now, hm? Frisk is a child, Sans. A child who admires you and looks up to you. A child who still considers you their best friend because you're the only one who can even _kind of_ understand what they're going through. A child who you've killed hundreds of times. A child who you _said_ you forgave, but you’ve cut them off from that understanding ever since. Doesn't that seem just a _little_ shitty?" 

Sans felt his eye burning again. “You’re getting pretty uppity for the brat who triggered all that in the first place, kiddo. What do you expect? Sure, maybe Frisk has some problems, but it's not my job to deal with them! I protect them, I spared them, I have their back. Quite frankly, after everything, that makes me a damn _saint_. So what if I’m not sitting down having sweet little heart-to-hearts over their _feelings_!? That calls for trust, and how the _fuck_ am I supposed to trust a damn kid who resets time over _eggs_!? I can never be one hundred percent sure of my _future_ , you brats _took_ that from me!”

“One hundred percent sure of the future!?” Chara was incredulous. “Oh my god, are you even listening to yourself? Sans, _nobody_ can be that sure of the future.*

“Uh, no, I’ve got some fancy reads on timelines that say otherwise,” Sans grumbled, folding his arms. His eye flickered out again.

Chara rolled their eyes. “You know possibilities. Big deal. Nothing is set in stone. Nobody has a guaranteed future. You could be walking down the street and some dumbass could hit you with their car. Frisk could get really sick. Even little things aren't set. You could plan a picnic with my mom and it might rain even when the forecast didn't call for it. All things are possible, both bad and good.”

“That's a bit different from time resetting.” Sans pointed out flatly. “Sure, anything can happen in the future, but the idea that I could lose what I have now and have to redo it _again_ is kind of a bummer.”

“Has Frisk reset more than a few hours? Since you got back, I mean.” AsrieI pointed out. 

“....No,” Sans admitted slowly. “But it's always possible. Sure, Frisk's acting more like themselves but in the Underground that didn't always matter. Besides, what about that voice? The one that made you do stuff.”

Chara grinned at that. “Oh, there's no need to worry there. On the last run, I started giving them new options. They were excited and they followed along. They didn't notice until it was too late that there was a problem. They were tied to one soul-- mine and Frisk's. When Azzy and I formed new ones, the voice was stuck with mine since they gave me a name. Frisk's the one who can reset, not me, so as long as we're separate… that voice can't do a thing. Game’s over.”

San stared at them. “That's uh… that's pretty cool, actually. Weird and hard to believe, but cool.”

AsrieI laughed. “Chara's so cool, right?”

Chara blushed. “It was just the only option, that's all. Anyway, I’m sure this doesn't just magically get rid of your fear. That takes time. But of course you’d know this if you’d bothered to talk to Frisk.” Their eyes narrowed again.

Sans snorted. “Still on this track, huh?” 

“Yep.” Chara propped their head in their hands as they spoke. “Your reasoning for freaking out is a good motive. Of course you're still hurt, of course you're still mad. Nobody would blame you for even being paranoid about resets, but you can't let it rule your life. Also you’ve been real stupid unhealthy about it, and that's not even getting started on how you're lashing out at everybody. You’re not even trying to move past it, and that's pathetic. Like… Azzy and I can't leave this place. We can't move on. You not even trying to. How childish.”

“I never said it wasn't,” The skeleton muttered. “Look, this is great and all, but you're not the first person to tell me to talk shit out. It's not that simple. Telling Alphys about what she did just hurts her. Paps is never really gonna get it. Frisk…” He trailed off, reaching down to absently pick at the lint on his sleeve.

“Do you think everyone wouldn't listen?” AsrieI asked gently.

“No, of course they would. I just…” His non-existent throat was tightening again.

“...Do you think you deserve it? People listening to you, forgiving you?”

Sans shook his head.

A heavy silence hung over the bar for a moment. “Do you remember what you told me at the end? Before we went back to the beginning.” Chara breathed.

Skeletal fingers traced across the bartop. “Have you tried forgiving yourself? Enjoying life? You made mistakes, sure, but it's never too late to make amends, especially you. Why not move on?” He glanced up into sad red eyes.

“Why not take your own advice?”

Sans flashed a wry smile. “Moving on is hard. I'm not very good at hard things.”

“Yeah? Too bad.”

His pocket vibrated loudly.

All three blinked in surprise. “Wow, rude,” Chara said, elbows still propped on the countertop. “Why even bother with a silent function if it's gonna be louder than your ringtone?”

AsrieI snickered into his paws.

Sans fished the phone out of his pocket, frowning down at it. Papyrus’ name and picture flashed across the screen. “Uh,” His eyelight flicked up to the kids. “Sorry guys, I gotta take this.”

He got a beam and a thumbs up from AsrieI. Chara grinned. “Go get 'em, tiger.”

The skeleton took a deep breath as he glanced down at the phone. Then he tapped the answer button, jerking the phone up to his jaw like ripping off a band-aid. “Yo.”

“SANS!” His brother's enthusiasm very nearly toppled him off his seat. “YOU ACTUALLY ANSWERED, OH MY GOD! I THOUGHT-- I WAS SO…” Papyrus’ voice trailed off, leaving space for the rush of wind and honking cars. “Wait a minute, I thought you lost this phone in Temmie Village.”

“Nah,” Sans draped himself against the countertop as he spoke. “Guess I didn't _cell_ it after all.”

A groan. “Oh my _God_ Sans, please don't tell me you lost your phone there just for that setup?”

“Okay, I won't tell you.” Sans was smiling, _really_ smiling. It felt strange.

There was a static-filled, long-suffering sigh. “Where are you, brother? Everyone is out looking for you. We have organised a search party! I thought for sure I would find you quickly with my superior tracking skills! I tried the apartment and when you weren't there Undyne tried Grillby's, but…”

The worry in his brother's tone felt heavy, to say nothing of the mental image of all this fuss over him. “Aw, I’m sorry bro, I shoulda left a note. I'm just out with some…” The skeleton glanced up, only to realize he was alone at the bar.

“... Old friends,” Sans finished with a small laugh. Typical.

“Oh!” Papyrus exclaimed happily. “That is such good news brother, I was terribly worried!” There was a pause. When Papyrus spoke again, there was unfamiliar shame in his tone. “I… should apologise, brother. I have been overbearing lately, to say the least. If you want space, the Great Papyrus should be socially conscious enough to give it to you.”

“Aw Pap, it's okay,” Sans said gently. “I wasn't exactly the healthiest about it. I coulda gotten space without going cross country for it.”

“But you may not have felt the need to if I had not pushed so hard!” Papyrus declared. His acknowledgement of Sans _not_ staying in town to job hunt was a casual thing, one that needed no further comment. “No Sans, I must insist you accept my apology on this.”

Sans chuckled. “Okay, buddy. Apology accepted.”

“And…” Papyrus trailed off. “If you wanted to...Perhaps next time you could take me with you? I understand if you want to be alone, but you have done so many things and I would rather know…”

Sans felt his breath catch. “That so?”

“Yes, like your delightful friend Brittany told me!” Papyrus gushed.

“...Who?" 

“Your bachelorette friends!” Papyrus exclaimed. “Frisk and I met them while we were out looking for you! They thought I was your brother, which is kind of racist, but they _did_ apologise and they were right so it's fine!” 

Sans blinked. Then he let out a laugh, slapping his forehead. “Oh yeah! I can't believe they remembered. I wonder if they'll still let me deliver the ceremony.”

“If they do, I must insist you keep puns out of the speech.”

“I make no _pun-mises_.”

“ _Ugh_.”

Sans laughed again. It felt good. He’d missed this.

“...Sans,” Papyrus spoke after a moment, his voice uncharacteristically subdued. “Frisk told us about the resets.”

Sans flinched. He almost threw the phone. He just barely held on, because no, he had missed laughing too much.

“I… I’m so sorry, Sans,” Papyrus whispered. “ I knew something was wrong but I never…”

“It's okay,” Sans spoke woodenly. “I mean, we had this conversation before, it never stuck. It's not your fault you forgot. It's not your fault I was too scared to tell you. It's…” He grit his teeth against the choking noise in his throat.

“But it is not your fault that you are scared either, brother,” Papyrus murmured.

“...I let you die, Pap,” Sans choked out, voice small, broken.

“And I would always rather have that than have you hurt someone. You know that.” Papyrus let out a sigh. “I… am sorry. My standards must have put you in quite the pickle." 

“You don't say,” Sans said, his bitter laugh only just staving off the sob in his throat. “Well, I killed them anyway. So that doesn't really matter.”

“So?” Papyrus asked. “Sans, Undyne told me she has killed children. So has King Asgore. I am not a fool, Sans, I know we had six human souls and I now know how we got them. I… perhaps there was another way. Perhaps we could have broken the barrier without a violence. I wish we… but everyone has made mistakes. And everyone, _anyone_ can be better in the future, if they really try. I believe that. I will _always_ believe that.”

Sans felt his breath quickening. His hand shook as he gripped the phone, his eyes squeezed shut against the burning within them. No, no, he wouldn't cry, he wouldn't-- 

“I will always believe in you, brother. This does not change anything. And I forgive you.”

“... _I'm so sorry, Pap_.” Sans sobbed. He pressed his free palm against the first tears streaming down his cheekbones. His body curled inward on the bar stool, small shoulders shaking.

“It's okay brother,” Papyrus said gently over the sobs. “I am here. Imagine my voice is the world's greatest hug, which I will most certainly be giving to you when I see you.”

Sans let out a hysterical laugh through the mess of tears. “I don't deserve you, bro.” 

“Nonsense!” Papyrus’ insistence was so loud the phone speaker crackled. “You may be a lump of slime, but you are still my brother!”

The skeleton chuckled as he scrubbed the tears from his face. “Yep. Same useless lump no matter what, huh?”

“You are _not_ useless, Sans!” Papyrus exclaimed. “I am done calling you that and I refuse to allow you to call yourself that either! You are depressed. I may not fully understand, but I am determined to help you. You had jobs and a life before, and if you truly want them, I will help you obtain them again. We will just have to take things one step at a time! With the Great Papyrus at your side, you cannot possibly fail! Nyeh heh heh!” Papyrus’ laughter once again abused the speaker. “And of course, I am certain everyone else will help to… if you want, of course.”

Sans let out a sigh at that, though he was still smiling. “I uh… maybe. Assuming everyone doesn't hate me now.”

“Why ever would they do that?” His brother sounded legitimately confused. “They are our friends!”

That got a grin from Sans, the motion only mildly uncomfortable with drying teartracks on his skull. “... Yeah. I guess you're right. Not to mention monsters are really bad at hating anyone.”

“That's right! And if they do, I’ll have a… _bone_ to pick with them!”

“Good one, bro.” Sans laughed. The action still felt somewhat hollow in his chest, and his skull felt sticky and gross after crying. But he still felt lighter than he had in days, and that was something.

“Anyway Sans, you should really come home. I-- OH, MISS TORIEL!” The yell had Sans cringing away from his phone. Even held at arm's length, Sans could still hear Papyrus. “I FOUND MY BROTHER! OR AT LEAST HIS VOICE! I-- oh, yes, of course you may borrow my--”

There was a shuffling noise before heavy breathing crackled the speaker. “SANS! Sans, oh stars, are you alright!?” Toriel gasped.

“Hey Tori,” Sans drawled into the receiver. “Sounds like something's really got your goat.”

“Don't you 'hey Tori’ me!” The boss monster huffed. “Sans, we have all been worried sick! I thought-- I was worried you’d-- oohhh I _swear,_ when you get home--”

“What, are you gonna ground me?” Sans wagged his eyebrows even though she couldn't see them.

“DO NOT TEMPT ME YOUNG MAN!” Toriel snapped into the receiver. Sans felt his grin widen into something just a touch nervous. Welp, it had been a good life. At least he’d probably enjoy his imminent death. Queen Toriel was a treat even if that regal air was a bit scary when directed at him.

He heard Toriel let out a long breath, trying to calm herself. “Well. I am glad to hear you're well enough to make jokes, _even if you will not be for much longer_. Where are you? For that matter, is Frisk with you?”

Sans felt his eyelight dim. “What?”

“Well, they snuck off shortly after Papyrus took them looking for you--”

“MY APOLOGIES MISS TORIEL! I TRIED TO KEEP AN EYE SOCKET ON THEM BUT MY EYES ARE VERY SMALL!”

A sigh. “It is not your fault, Papyrus. You know how Frisk can be. But now that we've found Sans, I am certain my child cannot be far. They always seem to find their way to him.” A pause. “...Am I correct, Sans?”

The hope in her tone hit Sans like a punch in the ribs. “Uh. No. Sorry Tori, I haven't seen them.”

“Oh…” Her disappointment was a weight. He’d thought he couldn't sink any lower, he was wrong. “Well, I suppose it was a silly hope. My apologies Sans, you have been through enough without me putting this on you. I am certain we will find them soon enough. The search is still active, after all. Tell me, where are you? You should not be teleporting, I will send Papyrus to come get you.”

“YES, SANS RETRIEVAL! I am well practiced at this, Miss Toriel, I promise I will not let you down!”

“Aw, there's no need for that, Tori, I…” Sans trailed off, brow furrowing. The former queen was right, Frisk did always find their way to him.

So there was only one place to go.

“Sans,” Toriel's voice was drained, the most tired Sans had ever heard it. “I have had quite enough of this wild snowdrake chase. Please, it is time to come home. Your family misses you. I miss you.”

“Don't worry, Tori, I’m coming home. I promise.” Sans said as he stood from the bar stool. He quickly brushed the dust from his shorts. “Do me a favor? Meet me at the top of Mount Ebott.”

“Mount Ebott?” He could hear shocked confusion in your tone. “Sans, don't tell me--”

“All right, I won't tell you,” Sans interrupted. “Look, I gotta go. See ya in a few hours.” With those words he hung up and shoved the phone into his pockets. He took a final moment to glance around the quiet bar, eyeing the remnants of the greasy chip bag and the empty water glass.

“Hey,” He spoke to the stillness. His voice reverberated off the cobwebs on the walls, floated back to him. “Thanks. I gotta go rescue your sibling now, kay? Don't wait up.”

He got no response, but the room seemed pleased. Sans smiled. Then he took a deep breath and vanished in a burst of blue.

He had a kid to save.


	10. don't drag me through this again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And then it was another two month wait. I'm so sorry, guys. I've been really laboring over this one because it's the climax and I wanted to make sure it was as good as I could make it. It may seem a bit too rambly in parts in spite of all the edits and work. Ah well, I hope you'll all enjoy it anyway.
> 
> Also, if you haven't heard it yet, CaitieLou did a reading of the first chapter of this fanfic on her youtube channel as a teaser! She did an amazing job and added all these great sound effects and music to it and I have listened to it like a million times because I'm a complete dweeb. Feel free to search Undertale Short Stories Vol. 5 and give it a listen, it's wonderful and I love it.
> 
> A note. Yes, this climax focuses entirely on Frisk and Sans. This fic, at its core, is about the relationship between the two of them and how that relates to both the Pacifist and Genocide routes as a whole, as well as how those events have affected both of them. I wanted to make sure the other characters got their fair attention and wanted to make sure to show how this PTSD affects everyone, but at its core, it's about that confrontation in the Judgement Hall. I assure you I will be giving all other characters attention in the final chapter. So don't worry.
> 
> So uh. Hey. This is the climax. If you wanna make it even more emotional, I highly recommend some listening music! I listened to Draw your Swords by Angus and Julia Stone for the first part of this, Megalovania Slow Music Box mix for the middle section aaaaand a music box version of His Theme for the finale. All three are great choices but really just a slow piano or any sort of slower, sadder version of Megalovania on repeat would work. I highly recommend it.
> 
> I'm gonna shut up and let you all enjoy the climax now. Hope you weren't too attached to your feelings.
> 
> Chapter title is from All We Ever Knew by The Head and The Heart, which is a great song with lyrics which fit bizarrely well for this fic as a whole.

Sans had only been up to the very top of Mount Ebott once.

It had been shortly after the barrier had been broken. Those first few days when the world was completely alien and unfamiliar, the days where every choice may as well have been an expedition. He’d hiked up here with Frisk, Toriel and his brother. Papyrus’ loud chatter and rage over pun exchanges had echoed through the mid-September air as they’d climbed. It was a long trek, made longer still by stopping for a picnic and Toriel’s fretting that they shouldn’t all overexert themselves. They’d arrived at the top eventually however, all rendered momentarily speechless by the gaping pit inside the cave.

Suddenly the fact that multiple children had fallen down did not seem such a wild concept. Also the flimsy fence and warning signs at the bottom of the mountain did not seem nearly enough. Toriel had insisted guards be stationed immediately while better precautions were put in place. As far as Sans knew, from that day forward no one had made it to the top of the summit.

Until today.

Sans stepped through time and space. The shortcut was unfamiliar. Fortunately, he ended up on the path as opposed to up in a tree or something. He did not take the time to appreciate his good fortune, eyelight flicking across stubborn foliage and rock. “Kid?” He called out tentatively. 

No answer. Sans sighed, then cupped skeletal hands around his mouth and called again. “Yo, Voiceless Wonder!” Still no response. With a grumble, Sans began to pick his way along the path. He deftly avoided snarling vines and clambered his way up boulders. Ugh, he was not made for this kind of physical activity. The events of the past few days did not help.

Still, he was finding he minded less than he thought he would. The memory of Papyrus’ words urged Sans forward. He felt lighter than he had in some time. There was a lot to do, but Papyrus could help. Everyone would help, actually, though it burned him a bit to admit it. The truths below the mountain had also freed his steps, though it felt strange to think it. He never would have thought that sort of talk was possible. After all, that brat had _killed_ him. Then again, said brat was the one keeping a lid on whatever had reset things, so Sans supposed he couldn’t complain. Maybe he’d visit again sometime. He’d also have to work out what he was going to do about the Prince. It seemed wrong that he was able to have a full conversation with Asriel while his parents remained unaware.

There was a lot to consider. It felt strange, even bothering to think about the future. It wasn’t a bad feeling, though.

Sans came to a stop. The mouth of a huge cave yawned down at him, dwarfing the skeleton in its presence. Sans blinked up at it, eyed the stalactites hanging from the ceiling like teeth. Above him, the clouds were darkening and stirring like angering waves. The warm winds howled howled in a fair approximation of breath. It seemed the storm was finally coming.

The skeleton gazed at the cave opening, then let out a sigh. “Just gotta grab me a kid and it’ll be like this crap never even happened.”

He didn’t have to go far. Blue and magenta stripes stood out from the gloom about thirty feet in. Tiny fists clenched at Frisk’s sides as the child gazed down into a gaping hole-- the entrance to the former Underground, Sans realized with a start. It stretched before them, a yawning maw that extended so far Sans actually couldn’t see the other side of it in the dark. The angry mouth effect of the cave opening was enhanced here, with jagged stalactites and stalagmites snarling from every available surface. Moss stretched into the opening like drool on the waiting demon’s lips. 

Another wheeze of stormbreath from the cave entrance. A few pebbles tumbled into the hole, matted hair billowed. Sans heard a puff of smaller breath, watched the way Frisk steeled themselves. Aw hell. 

“Hey kid, I--”

Sans meant for his introductory line to be cool and casual, as was tradition. What he hadn’t counted on was startling Frisk. The child let out a high-pitched yelp and promptly lost balance. They let out another cry, small arms pin-wheeling as they lurched forward.

A blue glow snapped around them immediately like a lifeline, jerking the child away from the brink. Sans tugged Frisk back with sharp jolt of his left hand, spinning them as he did so. Frisk tumbled into his waiting arms, eliciting another yelp. “Sheesh kiddo, way to ruin my entrance,” Sans grumbled into their hair.

“Sans!” Frisk gasped aloud as he pushed them away. He put a hand on their shoulder, easily overpowering their motion to get closer as he looked them over.

“What were you thinking?” Sans muttered as he brushed leaves from their matted hair, untangled and flicked a twig away in a flicker of blue magic.”I thought we already talked about this whole falling _again_ thing? It can’t possibly be this appealing!” 

“Sans--” Frisk’s voice was hesitant, quiet, easy to speak over.

“What _is_ all of this?” The skeleton asked as he brushed dried dirt from their tank top and shorts. “I’m all for dirty jokes, kiddo, but this is ridic--” He stopped when he got to their scuffed knees, red standing out amongst the dirt. “Aw jeez, what were you even _doing_ up here?”

“Sans, I told everyone.”

The warmth from his earlier conversations was doused instantly. He felt his eyelight go out. “That so?” The words felt hollow in his jaw. Sans backed away, felt his arms drop to his sides, forced the light back into its socket.

This was stupid. Sans knew this was stupid. He already knew Frisk had told everyone, thought he’d made his peace with it. After all, hadn’t he just had a good conversation with Papyrus about the subject? Hadn’t his brother still loved him in spite of everything? But there was the memory of the pain in Toriel’s voice when he dropped bits and pieces, the rage in Undyne’s snarls, the hurt in Alphys’ typed rambling. 

Frisk bit their lip, gazing up at him with wide dark brown eyes. “It…” They licked their lips as the words choked in their throat. Then they began to sign, shaky and hopeful. _“It didn’t go as badly as you said! They did get upset. I-I think Alphys feels bad about Flowey, and Undyne wishes she knew. And mom is sad about Asriel. But… they forgave me.”_

Sans gave a wooden nod. That made sense-- everyone loved Frisk, how could they not? They couldn’t actually remember what had happened, nobody really remembered the dust on the child’s hands. To everyone else those things were stories. A sad story with a happy ending, the story of the child who saved the Underground through love. The story of how Frisk (and Sans, he supposed) saved two fallen children from themselves. That was great. 

But to everyone else it was just a story. Sans, in spite of himself, still knew better. And now that everyone else knew the story, it was much harder for him to ignore.

_“They’re not mad_ ,” Frisk signed. 

“Yeah.”

_“...But you’re still mad.”_

Sans felt the weight catch in his chest. “Yeah,” He admitted.

A heavy wind blew in from the cave entrance, rustled through the hole in Sans’ coat, messed Frisk’s hair. Frisk reached up to clutch at their shirt, fiddling with it. They reached up to sign, but were interrupted.

“You get why, right?” The skeleton asked, cocking his head to the side as he spoke. “They’ll look at us different now. Everyone will always know. Sure, they’ll say it doesn't bother them, but you know that's not true. They’ll know what we have nightmares about. They'll look down on us-- on you. Some part of them is always gonna wonder every time you pick up a knife. They'll look at you how I do.”

Frisk flinched. _“How do you look at me, Sans?”_

“...Like you're a murderer.”

He watched the child's face crumple.  For an instant Sans wished he could take the words back. Unfortunately they were an expression of weight, and with each second they became more true. It was how he’d felt from the first moment his brother died, how he'd always feel no matter how many times that changed. There was no coming back from that now that it was out. 

Well, there was, kind of, but it wasn't his call to make.

“Look, I get it. Your heart was in the right place. You wanted to save your little friends and you did. That's admirable-- worth it, even. But results don't change the means. I'm always gonna know you're capable of doing it. I’ll always know you can kill them without a second thought. I’ll know you can undo this in a second-- and sometimes you do, even over some stupid little thing like eggs.”

Frisk shook their head. _“I wouldn’t do it. I would never hurt you, Sans, you’re my--”_

“Lying is wrong, kiddo.” Sans voice came out harder than he intended. His tone made the child flinch again, but he continued. “You’ll reset again. You can’t help it. It’s not like I can blame you, either. I’m the one who told you that the power gives you a responsibility. I’m the one who told you to do the right thing… but sometimes the right thing’s kinda relative, isn’t it?” 

He watched their dark eyes flick down to their shaking hands. _“I… I just wanted to help everyone.”_  

“And that’s great. But you can’t help everyone, Frisky Business. It’s impossible for everyone to be totally happy, that’s not how life works.” 

At those words, Frisk’s shaking stilled. Their eyes narrowed. _“That’s not true. I can make it happen.”_ Their fingers jerked hard at the last words, as if underlining them.

Sans laughed at that. “How sweet. Determination can’t fix everything, kiddo. Don’t you get it? This whole mess is the consequence of that Determination. You make friends with everybody but you can’t save your little friends, right? So you try to get the attention of the lost children of the Underground. They kill everyone in some battle for their souls. You win, eventually. You reset. But those friendships you started with are never the same. Those first meetings never go quite the same, there’s a distance. And now that they know that rift, they can’t go back.” 

Frisk said nothing at that, biting their lip. The winds were picking up speed outside as Sans continued. “That’s what I’m trying to explain. I’m stuck with these memories now because of you. I can’t handle seeing you spill flour because it freaks me out too much. I can’t handle seeing you and Pap alone in the same room. I can’t _sleep_ , can you believe that? I can’t sleep because what if you reset, huh? What if you reset and I wake up back Underground? Do you have any idea how maddening that is!?”

As he spoke, Frisk’s shoulders slumped, their eyes getting wider and wider. That pained face was becoming one of the few things visible in the oncoming storm. They did nothing to stop the words pouring from Sans’ mouth. “So, now you’ve gone and damned everyone else to this bullshit? How selfish can you be!?” He let out a humorless chuckle. “I’m sure you saw it. Undyne takes forever to trust anybody, do you really think she’s going to fully rebuild that bridge? Alphys feels guilty enough, I’m amazed she gets through the day as is. How long do you think she’s gonna handle the shit we told her about the Prince before it becomes too much? What happens if she’s working alone one day and no one’s there to stop her from doing something cowardly? Did you tell my bro how you crushed his damn skull beneath your foot, or did you leave out that little detail? And how about your mom, she--”

Sans’ voice had been rising in pitch. Now it suddenly quieted, a sinking feeling hitting him where his gut would be. “...She knows her trust was for nothing. For both of us. She knows I didn’t keep my promise, that I’m… that you…” He shook his head. “Do you get it yet? Honesty just ruins the happy ending for everyone. You gotta understand that.”

Silence in the wake of his outburst. The wind outside howled. Sans took a deep breath, then shoved his shaking hands into pockets. “You should reset. I know it sounds weird, coming from me, but this whole mess has been wrong from the get go. That's not all on you, I’m the one that started it. But everyone knowing… that's not right. They shouldn't have to live with that. If you really want a happy ending, the closest you’ll get is a few days back. So let's go.”

Frisk was still for a moment. Then they shook their head.

Sans felt his eyelight flicker in the dark like a waning streetlight. “Excuse me?” He saw the child take a step back-- his silhouette at the mouth of the cave must have made for a frightening sight. He didn't care. “Were you even listening? It's not right to force this crap on everyone else.”

He got another headshake. _“You’re wrong.”_ Frisk signed. _“It’s better to be honest. You always say that. I'm done lying.”_

“Difference between lying and omission, kiddo.”

_“No there isn't,”_ They took a step toward him, then another. _“If you know something important to someone and you don't tell them, that's just as bad as lying.”_

Sans felt something churn in his insides. Memories of arguing with Papyrus over the merit of his new flower friend, of the days where the knowledge of what she’d done lead Alphys to take her own life. Toriel's angry sobs from behind a door after Sans confessed to the bodies he’d left in the snow.

“Sometimes lying is the better option,” He murmured. “You’re young, so you don't get it, but things aren't always--”

“No!” Frisk verbally cut him off, glaring at him. They began to sign again, motions firm. _“You told me there's no such thing as a gray area, not really. You lie and it's wrong, or you tell the truth and it's right. That's it.”_

Sans let out a frustrated breath through clenched teeth. “Sometimes you gotta take that hit for the greater good, pal. For somebody who's so concerned about helping your friends, you're awfully selfish.” 

_“So what if I am!?”_ Frisk’s cheeks puffed with their own frustration as they took a few steps closer. _“Maybe it's selfish to tell everyone. Maybe it's selfish to let them know. But they're our friends! They wanted to know, they wanted to help! The thing that hurts them most is that we haven’t told them! You’re the one being selfish because you don’t want anybody to know about what happened!”_

Sans reeled as if he’d been punched. “What!?” He sputtered, felt his eyelight flickering back in surprise. “Those are some big words for a kid who _stabbed me_! You’re the one who undoes everything if things aren’t perfect, you’re the one who killed everyone so one damn kid would be happy! You’re the one who can’t keep this to yourself! You…” He trailed off, realizing he was rambling. He gave a soft laugh, reaching up to rub at his aching skull. “I can’t believe I’m explaining this to you. You’re a kid, you just don’t know any better. Just trust me when I say I’ve seen the bad ends. They can’t handle it. At the very least, they’ll hate you. You don’t want that, do you?” 

Frisk took another step forward, their signs methodical and sharp. _“I don’t care if they hate me. They wanted to know. They wanted to help us. They wanted to help you and they’re already doing better. Alphys was upset but Undyne is getting her through it. Undyne was mad but she’s been going on and on about how cool you are, how she wishes she’d known earlier, how she wants to train with you. Mom is worried about you but when it comes to Azzy and Chara, she knows they’re at peace. Papyrus just wanted to be there for you, he wishes he’d done things differently for you, he--”_

“Yeah yeah,” Sans cut them off, holding up a hand. “Save it. Aren’t your fingers getting tired? It’s been what, three days? That’s barely anything. You don’t know what’s further down the road. It’ll get to you-- all those second glances, all the times everyone flinches. In spite of everything, you’re still you, Frisk. You want to be friends with everyone. In a week or two? You won’t be able to take it. You’ll reset. You always do. Let’s just cut out all that ‘will they or won’t they’ junk, huh?”

Small lips pressed into a thin, angry line. _“I’m not going to reset. I don’t care if they hate me. It’s not really about me, they can hate me if they want. But I won’t let you carry this alone anymore. You won’t have to hide anymore. You can get better.”_

That got a loud, angry laugh from Sans. “Whoa, you sure are making a lot of choices for the adult here. Don’t you think you’re overstepping your bounds just a wee bit? Especially after all the shit you’ve done?”

Frisk stepped closer. They were now only a few feet away. _“So what if I am? I don’t care. I want to help.”_

Sans felt his eyelight go out once more. “Take one more step and you will regret it, kid,”

Dark eyes glared at him in the gloom. The wind howled outside. _“You’re my friend. I’m going to save you for real this time.”_ Tiny hands clenched into fists as Frisk took another step forward.

Everything burned blue. In an instant Frisk's soul was squeezed tight in Sans’ grip, a burning beacon in the dark. The child gasped. The noise was drowned out by his own laughter, which rumbled low in his nonexistent throat and grew louder and louder. It was not a pleasant sound.

“Did you really think we were ever friends?” 

“I…” Frisk breathed out the word shakily, but was cut off.

“What, you gonna remind me of all those times I grabbed lunch with you? All the dumb jokes? The headdogs?” Sans snorted. “Don’t you get it? It was an act. I’m good at that. It was all a stupid script to follow to try and keep you happy. I guessed you were an anomaly when I went through the same damn morning three times before you even left the Ruins. But you were a kid, and well, I’d already made a promise. So I thought hey, maybe if I kept you happy, you’d do the right thing. So I kept you fed. I told you dumb jokes. I kept the bigger monsters off your back to keep you safe. It was the most pragmatic option to get us out of the damn loop, and fat lotta good that did. Friendship had nothing to do with it.” 

A choked noise squeaked out from the soul in his grip. It could have been physical or emotional distress, Sans did not care. “I…” Frisk tried to gasp out words, then began to sign, their motions backlit by their weighted soul. _“You’re lying. I know you started out doing those things because you promised mom, I know my powers scared you… b-but at the end you still said--”_

Sans barked out another harsh laugh. “What I _said_? You think that matters _at all_!? Please. Give a long spiel about how you gained love in the Judgement Hall, casually drop some information about the flower to make sure you know what’s coming, tell you the story about your mom. Doesn’t it seem like it was all spread out and paced a little too well? It’s my job. I am the Judge, I am the one who watches. I can’t interfere, all I can do is suggest. We both played our parts-- you’re the hero on some grand adventure, I’m the mysterious Judge giving you friendly advice in between bits. That’s all it ever was.” 

He heard a whimper. _“But the key to your room--”_

“Whoa kid, looks like I trust you so much I’m willing to let you into my secret room!” Sans exclaimed, voice dripping with false cheer. He waved his hands in the air. “Ta-da! I’ve trusted you with all my secrets, I’ve let you in for real, that's gotta be it, right? Now you’ll never go back! Except wait. You _did_.” His left hand clenched into a fist and his magic tightened. Frisk gasped. 

_“But… when you were lost… when I called out to you--”_

“That doesn’t matter!” Sans snapped. “Go ahead, tell me how at his most fucking open, poor lost Sans tells you to give up because he already has, poor lost Sans takes it back and says he roots for you! You really think that means anything at all? Big deal, I rooted for you to do the right thing. That doesn’t mean shit, and how can it? All that effort was for nothing, my little project fails. You still decided one damn kid mattered more than your family going free. That hangs on you and it always will, see?” He jerked Frisk into the air. Heat lightning flashed outside, thunder roared.

“Do you feel that? That’s what you did. That’s what you’re capable of. This weight is always gonna be there, you don’t get to just reset and pretend it isn’t real!” Sans snarled over the howl of the wind. “You can’t be friends with your Judge, kid, it’s a _major_ breach in protocol!”

“So judge me then!” Frisk snapped aloud, hands clenching into fists in the gloom. “If you’re going to do it anyway, just say what you think and get it over with!”

His grin widened. “Is that really what you want?”

At their answering nod, he laughed again. “Alright, you asked for it.” His fist tightened, Frisk gasped under the pressure. “I never trusted you kid. Never have, never will. Everyone else sees you as some precious, blameless angel, too good and too nice for this stupid world. It makes me sick! None of them know what you’re capable of, even if you tell them they won’t really _get it_. Every time somebody says what a hero you are, I want to scream. Every time I see you alone with my brother, it’s all I can do to not smash your little face in. You’re not a good person. I don’t care that you had good intentions, I don’t give a crap that your little friends had their own motives and everyone’s all better now. You, Frisk Dreemur, are a murderer.”

Sans thrust his arm out, sent the child dangling over the gaping maw of the Underground. Tiny legs kicked in panic, he heard a whimper of fear. Good.

“It’s heavy, right?” He hissed. “Those sins on your back don’t just go away, they’ll drag you down forever. Or at least they should. You don’t get to just reset time and pretend it all never happened, you are not above consequence. You are not an angel, you are not a demon. You’re just some greedy little _thing_ with the power to fuck over everybody’s lives! You treated us like toys, acted like you knew better and everybody else paid the price for it. You are not a person, you are a _construct_. You’re some stupid force of chance and we’re all stuck dancing along with you because none of us has a damn choice in the matter. You ruined everything and I _hate_ you!”

A gasp, labored from the pressure on a tiny soul. “I… I just wanted to help…”

“Big fucking deal!” Sans roared. “You know the saying, right? Road to hell, good intentions? Yeah, that’s on you, but I’m the only one who has to walk it! How is that even remotely fair!? I’d say you should be _dead_ , but that just resets everything again, doesn’t it!? There’s no winning this, there’s no escaping you and I’m so, _so_ done with it! I want you out of our lives, I want you gone, I hate you and I should just drop you down this stupid hole and bury you so no one will _ever_ find you!”

There was a flash of lighting so bright it illuminated the entire cave. He saw eyes wide with fear, choppy hair still matted with leaves and debris. Tears streamed down Frisk’s face, their lips quivered. Then the light was gone, leaving naught but broken sobs in the dark.

The soul in his grip was light.

Sans felt his anger drain away like poison from a wound. He very nearly lost his hold on their soul, but he held on. Thunder cracked in the distance. The storm was so close now. “Kid…”

“It’s okay,” Frisk’s small voice was very nearly swallowed up in the dark. “It’s okay if you hate me, it’s okay. I deserve it. I never meant to hurt you. I didn’t… j-just go ahead and drop me. It’s okay. I-I just want you to be okay, Sans.” 

Fuck. What had he done?

“No. No, that’s… no...” Sans mumbled, shaking his head. He drew his hand back, pulled Frisk to solid ground and set them down. The instant their sneakers touched the cave floor, their shaking knees gave way and they collapsed. Sans stood over them in the dark, listening to their wordless sobs, watching the silhouette of their shaking shoulders in the blackness. “I…” He looked away. “There you go. I hate you, now you know. Go ahead and reset. Maybe we’ll both be lucky and this will be a timeline I forget.”

Frisk shook their head, though all they could seem to produce were sobs.

The skeleton grimaced. “Frisk. Please. I can’t…” Can’t what? Can’t handle all those honest emotions out in the open? Swallow the idea that he’d said all that shit after all the promises he’d made? Accept the fact that he felt that way at all? Hear a kid crying once more when it was his fault?

Again the child shook their head. “C-consequences…” They whimpered through chattering teeth.

That got a bitter chuckle from Sans. “You got me there.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Look. I’m sorry for everything I just said. I’m not being fair at all. You’re not a bad person, Frisk. You’re not a saint or anything, but you… your heart was always in the right place. You didn't mean to hurt them. Hell, even your friend had stuff out of their control. I'm the one who can't let it all go, that’s why I left in the first place.”  
  
There were dozens of heavy, pattering thuds, the first few raindrops hitting the earth as Sans continued to speak. “Let’s be real. Me telling you to reset,  that’s for me, not you, and I shouldn’t have made you carry that. I… you're a kid. You’re a kid and you’ve had to carry too much. I just made it worse. I told you because you have this power, you’ve got a responsibility to do the right thing. Then I get mad when you reset? What kinda bullshit is that? How is that even remotely fair?” He gave a sad sort of laugh over the rumble of thunder and flashing lightning, saw tears still wet on Frisk’s face.

“I met your friends down below. They’re good kids, just like you, and they grew a lot. They told me what happened, what you did. I have all the proof I could ever get that this is it and we’re never going back Underground… it doesn’t matter, I can’t accept it. All the facts say you’re just some kid who had to do to much, and I can’t get over my own junk. Forget how bad I’ve fucked up the Judge thing, I can’t even say I’m a scientist. I came up here telling myself I’d be the one helping you, but I can’t do it.”  He took a deep breath, trying to alleviate the tightness in his chest. It did nothing.

“I… I can’t do this, kid. Everyone’s gonna know I’m a fraud. Everyone knows how bad I failed them. They say they’re okay with it but…” He shook his head. “I can’t keep this up. I can’t go back. It’s either you or me that stays with the family, and that means there’s really only one answer. So I gotta get out and stay out.”

His words made Frisk freeze, their tearful eyes wide. “Sorry kiddo. That’s the only solution.” Sans shrugged like he’d just decided on lunch for the day. “Look, I’m not gonna stay out of everyone’s lives or anything. I’ll move somewhere else, I’ll work something out with Pap. I can teleport, so my living situation doesn’t really matter. I just… can’t be around you, this whole mess has proved that.”

Frisk shook their head, tears streaking down their cheeks. “N-no…”

“C’mon kid, you’re smart. I know you see it too.” The smile Sans forced was agony carving into his skull, the edges of it sharp as he plastered it into place. “Look. What kind of asshole makes a kid cry, huh? As long as I’m here, I’m gonna keep hurting you. I can’t do that, it’s not fair to you or anybody else. You guys don’t need me here. All I do is take up space, right? I don’t have a job, I’m not doing anything but moping around. A few shitty puns is hardly enough to justify what I do to everyone.” Each word seemed another weight on his grin, pulling the edges down again. There was too much truth to what he was saying, too much weight. He was too heavy.

The mask was not working anymore.

So he turned away, faced the mouth of the cave, kept his shoulders hunched to form a wall. He began to walk away. “It’s not right, and it’s not fair to you. You saved everyone and you should be happy. I’m done messing that up for you. So be happy, okay?” With that and a burst of blue, he vanished.

The world stuttered.

Sans’ jaw dropped as he found himself facing a crying Frisk yet again. “Are you fucking kidding me?” He sputtered. “Now? _Now_ you’re choosing to reset?”  
  
They leveled their chin at him, teary eyes narrowing in defiance.

“You get that I’m done, right? There’s nowhere else for this line to go.” Sans pointed out.

That got a headshake, their signs firm. _“As long as you keep running, you won’t be happy. I want you to be happy too.”_

A bitter laugh forced its way past his jaw. “Oh, you want me to be happy, huh? That’s real sweet, but you can’t force somebody to be happy. As long as I’m around you, it’s not gonna happen. So if you want me to be happy, you’ll let me go.”

Frisk said nothing. The rain was picking up in intensity, a downpour outside. Sans turned for the mouth of the cave. “Right. Later then.” He walked, vanished in a burst of blue. 

The world stuttered.

“Do you mind!?” Sans snapped as he found himself facing teary eyes once more. “I’m trying to have a dramatic exit and you are _really_ harshing the vibe here, kiddo!”

Frisk said nothing.

The skeleton let out an aggravated breath as he turned for the mouth of the cave yet again. “Look, I get it, you care about me, that’s great. Here’s my final lesson-- if you love something, let it go. If it comes back, great, if it doesn’t it was never yours in the first place. Do you understand?” He got no response-- or maybe he did, he couldn’t see their hands. Whatever. “Yeah. Good. Time for you to learn to let go.” He vanished the sound of the downpour. 

The world stuttered.

Sans ground his teeth together. “You’re really pushing it, kid.” With those words he spun on his heels, walked for the mouth of the cave.

The world stuttered.

A growl loosened from his chest. “Resetting over small things is what got you into this mess in the first place, remember!? How Is this supposed to help!?”

Teary eyes glared back at him.

“Fine, whatever,” Sans huffed as he turned for the mouth of the cave once more. “Guess you’re done talking too. Later.”

A burst of blue, then the world stuttered.

“Damnit!” Sans’ hands clenched into fists at his side. “You get that this isn't helping, right!? Congrats, now I'm upset _and_ I’m pissed! Real red letter day for you!”

_“I’m going to save you.”_  Frisk’s signs were pointed, deliberate even as tears streamed down their face in the gloom.

Another harsh laugh from the skeleton. “That’s not how this works, kiddo. I get why you think it’ll happen, everything else bends to your will after enough resets. But not this time. If you’re so determined for us to face consequences, you’ll have to accept what that means.” With those words he turned and walked for the mouth of the cave once again. He took a few more steps before teleporting, holding his breath as he did so. 

The world stuttered.

He took in a slow, frustrated breath as he glared at Frisk’s teary face once again. “You can’t save everybody, pal. Let me go.” With those words he turned and walked for the mouth of the cave once again. He took a few more steps this time toward the downpour, then vanished.

The world stuttered.

“Stop it,” Sans growled as he immediately turned and walked for the cave entrance.

The world stuttered.

Wordlessly, he turned for the exit again.

The world stuttered.

“STOP. IT.” He snarled out, eye burning brilliant blue for a moment before he stalked for the rain again. 

The world stuttered.

“Kid. _Please_.” Sans’ frustrated breath took cracking words with it. He wasn’t sure if it was out of frustration, pain, or both.“Don't you get it? I can't be around you, it's too much. I'm a bad person. I can't let go. If I am around you, if I’m _honest_ , shit like this happens. I have killed you before. I will do it again. You’re better off without me.” He turned and walked for the exit, made it several feet.

The world stuttered.

_“You won’t hurt me.”_ Frisk signed.

Sans forced a smile. “I wish I could agree with you, kiddo.” With that he turned for the exit, inching closer to the downpour as he kept speaking. “Even if I don't blast you, I’ll weigh you down with my hangups. You see that, right? Look, I already made you keep this secret for over a year. It's…” He trailed off for a moment, then shook his head. “It’s not healthy and it's not good.  I'm not worth it.” Once again, he tried to teleport away. 

The world stuttered.

The skeleton blinked out at the pouring rain. He’d been restored a little further up the path this time, his back to the child, but it still wasn’t out. He kept walking. “Kid, listen. I can’t do it, okay? Maybe you can handle everyone knowing, but I can’t. They all know what a failure I am now, they know I let everyone die, Papyrus knows I’m even less than he thought, Toriel knows my promise--” The words caught in his nonexistent throat. He tried to shortcut away.

The world stuttered.

Sans rocked on his heels as he stared at the rain, the words still caught in his jaw. “Please. All I’ve ever done is hurt people. No matter what I do, it's never enough. I can't save anybody. I couldn't save the Doc, or Papyrus, couldn’t save the Underground… couldn’t even save you. Either I stand back and do nothing, or I wreck things. You’re safer without me. I can’t… please…” He kept walking for the mouth of the cave. 

One step, two. He felt sweat bead on his brow, slide down his neck. He didn’t dare shortcut, couldn’t stand the idea of everything shifting yet again. Any second now the reset would happen, he was powerless against it, trapped between the emotions constricting his soul and that wall behind him. Just keep walking, enjoy the movement, enjoy _any_ movement, any move forward was something, right? But he’d still end up back in that cave, he’d still be facing those tears, so what was the point? 

He stepped out into the downpour, then blinked blearily up into the dark sky. Rain thundered down onto his skull, splashed into waiting sockets, pooled in his collarbone-- and wasn’t that something? A release after all the humidity, a relieving of pressure. Shame it didn’t match the weight in his chest. He should have kept walking. He should have shortcutted away, but it all seemed so pointless.

Small arms encircled him from behind. Sans flinched, but didn’t move away. “Frisk, _please_.” His choked voice was nearly lost in the downpour.

“L-let me tell you a story.” Frisk murmured into his jacket. 

Sans said nothing. The rain drummed around them in sheets.

“Once upon a time, there was a skeleton. He could walk and talk and told a lot of really bad jokes. His brother loved his bad jokes, even though he pretended to hate them. The skeleton seemed really lazy and everybody said so. But the truth was the skeleton was special. He was really smart, and strong, and fast, and it was his job to watch over the whole Underground. So he did.”

“Kid… I didn’t...” Sans mumbled, slumping in Frisk’s grip. His head dropped to his collarbone, rain thudded against his skull. Lightning flashed above them.

Frisk’s hug tightened. “He _did_ ,” They said pointedly. “He was always there when people needed him. Whenever somebody was going to do something bad, he was always there to talk to them. He was never mean and he never made a fuss about it, but he was always there. He was a good judge, kind but fair.”  
  
Sans said nothing at that. The wind howled as if it were in pain.

“Two times, demons came to the Underground. They were lost souls and they were so scary, t-they were hurting and they wanted to hurt other people. The worst part was they could reset time, even after they died… so they just kept coming. The skeleton fought them every time he had to. He was brave. He did everything he could. He was a hero.”  
  
The skeleton took in a sharp intake of breath. “Heroes win, kiddo,” He murmured, his voice rumbling with the thunder.

There was a moment of silence. He felt Frisk press themselves closer with a lightning flash. “No. Heroes don’t always win. Sometimes being a hero just means fighting because no one else can. Sometimes being a hero is just doing the right thing when nobody else can.”

“But I didn’t do that…” Sans whimpered, feeling his eyesockets burn. “I--”

“Yes you did!” Frisk’s voice hit shouting pitch over the wind. “You did everything you could! Flowey said you stopped him _every_ time! You tried to tell everyone and sometimes it worked but usually it didn't! You fought forever, even when you thought it was pointless. You tried to keep your promise to my mom and you tried to be nice for your brother, even when everything… even after I…” They trailed off for a moment, breathing hard. Sans felt them shudder. 

“I still killed you, Frisk,” Sans murmured hollowly. “Nothing’s gonna change that.” 

“And I killed you,” Frisk whimpered, fingers digging into the material of his jacket. “I killed you and I kept coming back, and you still didn’t give up. You still kept trying to wake me up. You still called out to me every time. You still saved me.”

Sans gave a sad laugh at that. “You saved yourself. I didn’t do anything. I never do anything.” 

“Stop,” Frisk whispered. “You convinced Chara. You reminded me there were things worth fighting for. You... you do so much, Sans. You work five jobs to keep a roof over Papyrus’ head, you help everybody with their problems, you listen to people. You’re the best brother Papyrus could ever ask for. You make mom happier than she’s been in years. You remember all the nerdy stuff Undyne and Alphys are into, you… you’re always there for me… you’re always watching me…” There was a light thud as Frisk pressed their face into the back of his jacket.

“Sans,” Frisk choked out, voice thick with tears. “Please come home. Everybody needs you. I need you. I… it’s too much… I can’t… remembering everything is _so hard_. I told everybody and they all forgave me, but they don’t _understand_. They don’t really know, you’re the only one who knows and you _hate_ me…” 

His soul sunk. “I… I don’t really hate you, Frisk, I didn’t mean it.”

“Yes you do!” The child cried into his back. “You hate me, you hated me as soon as I showed up in the Underground because I could ruin everything a-and you were _right_! I did ruin everything! Even here where everyone else is happy, I made you leave! No matter how hard I try, something goes wrong! I just wanted to make everyone happy, I just wanted to save everyone, I just wanted to do good…” They grabbed at fistfuls of his jacket, clutching at the cloth as if they would be blown away if they didn’t. “I just tried to do good like you told me… and it’s okay if you hate me, it’s okay, I just… I just want you to be happy too… I just wanted to be _good_.”

“I… I know kid…” Sans heard his own voice crack. “And you did good. You did very good. You’re so good you can’t even handle breaking eggs. It’s not your fault I can’t get over it, okay?” 

“I can’t get over it either,” Frisk sobbed.

Something clicked as the winds died down.

“I-I have nightmares almost every night!” Frisk continued. They were shouting over the downpour now, words pouring out of them in a rush. “You know, you’ve been there. You’re the only one who understands what happened… and I can't even talk to you about it! It's not fair! I know you have nightmares just like me!! You'll come when I have them if I'm really upset but you won't talk to me and… I know I don’t deserve to be talked to. I know I deserve it but I can’t. I can't keep holding it. I know I don't have the right but it hurts! I was so scared. I wanted to stop and I couldn't, it was my stupid idea to reset in the first place and I just wanted to do good like you told me and it's not--”

Sans turned and threw his arms around the child, crushing them to his chest. “I know,” He choked out, squeezing his eyes shut. The first tears streaked down his cheekbones. “I know, it’s not fair. I haven’t been fair to you at all. You did everything you could to do the right thing. You tried so hard. You didn’t want to kill them. Neither did Chara, not really. You all just…” His grip tightened, as if Frisk’s minuscule warmth could fill the gaping hole in his ribs. “It must have been so hard. You must have been so scared, and I never even _thought_ about it. I was too focused on my own crap.”

“I…” Frisk croaked, voice muffled with their face pressed into his shirt. “I-it’s okay, I killed your brother, I don’t deserve--”

“Hey,” Sans cut them off through his own tears. “If you get to tell me it’s okay I killed you, I think I’m allowed to try to move past that and offer you some courtesy. And you can stop talking if you want, I’m sure your voice is tired.” 

The child slumped in his grip, relaxing a fraction. _“I’m,”_ Their fingers paused, hesitant as they pressed signs into his shirt. _“I’m tired. I’m sorry, I know I don’t have the right. I just… it hurts. I can’t hold it anymore.”_ They let out another whimpering sob.

Sans took a shuddering breath as he reached down to stroke their hair. “It’s okay,” He mumbled. “I don’t think I can either. So let’s stop, huh?” Frisk blinked up at him through tears. Sans flashed a pained smile. “A friend of ours said it’s okay to hurt. And I think we… I think we’re allowed to, after everything. So…” He paused, fighting past a sudden lump in his nonexistent throat. He pulled Frisk closer, resting his skull on the top of their hair. “So go ahead. I’m right here. I got you, kid.” 

There was a sniffle from the child in his arms. Then a sob. Then it was as if a dam had broke and abruptly Frisk was wailing, screaming into his chest. Small fingers clutched so tightly at his shirt the fabric nearly ripped, their voice a downpour. They shook so hard Sans could feel it in his bones, and with each shudder something loosened. Abruptly, he too was sobbing. Each gasping breath was a tug, as if he were drawing up his sorrow from a well. He was drowning and his nonexistent lungs were filled to the brim. Each howl had him spitting it out, leaving more room for air with each gasp.

With the air came words. The two of them were a mess of ramblings heard loud and clear over the torrent of rain. Sobbing apologies ran into garbled half explanations, self blame stopped by kind words, mixed to the point where it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. On and on it went, words upon words and tears mixing with tears until finally, little by little, they dwindled into spent silence.

“Hey,” Sans mumbled hoarsely over the gentle patter of the quieting storm. The two of them were crumpled on the ground now, and he had to pull away slightly to get a good look at Frisk’s face. “I… I know I said it already, but I’m sorry. I didn’t mean everything I said. I was mad and hurt cause of everything that happened. There’s still a lot to work through, but… you’re still my kid, okay? I love you, and I’ll always watch your back.” He forced a shaky smile as a few more tears slipped out. “So don’t get any dumb ideas, okay?”

Frisk blinked up at him, then flashed a shaky, watery smile of their own. “I love you too,” They whispered before finally resting their head against his chest. 

The two sat quietly for awhile. The sky gave its last sleepy, far away grumbles. The rain fell around them in a gentle rhythm. It was fortunate the storm had died down, Sans didn’t think he could get the two of them back to the cave if he’d wanted to. His limbs felt like lead, though it was a comforting sort of heaviness. His chest, by contrast, felt miraculously light. It was as if mess within it had been poured out, all the bile scraped and scrubbed away. 

It was nice. 

A small hand tapped his shoulder, getting his attention. _“Your eye is out,”_ Frisk’s signs were sluggish but they still managed.

“Huh?” Sans blinked, then chuckled as the child reached up to tap the right side of his skull. “Aw, don’t worry about it kiddo. It hasn't worked right in years. I just keep a light there so I don't scare people.”

Frisk blinked up at him in confusion. _“Why not just wear an eyepatch?”_  

Sans shrugged weakly.  “Don't wanna draw attention to it. Besides, eyepatches are Undyne's thing.”

He watched as Frisk shook their head. _“I think she’d like it! You two could match!”_

The skeleton snorted, “Yeah, cause that’s what I want. Similarities with Undyne.” 

_“Undyne is cool!”_ Frisk’s signs were insistent.

The skeleton outright laughed as he mussed their hair. “I dunno about that one, kid. Seems _fishy_.” He winked and grinned at the weak giggles in his arms.

They sat in silence for another couple of moments, just watching the rain. “So judging from Tori’s reaction on the phone earlier, I’m gonna guess you came up here without telling anybody?” Sans asked conversationally. Frisk fidgeted uncomfortably in his arms and Sans gave a snort. “You’re so grounded, buddy.”

Frisk’s cheeks puffed in frustration. _“Then you should be too!”_

Sans snickered. “Can’t ground an adult, pal.” He then paused to consider Toriel’s tone from their earlier phone call and felt a shudder go down his spine. “...Actually on second thought, your mom may _actually_ kill me.”

_“Good!”_ Frisk’s signs were pointed and they gave a sharp nod. _“Serves you right for this wild goose chase!”_  

Sans laughed again, a deep, booming one that seemed to echo in his cleared chest. “You’ve been hanging around my bro too much, kid. You sound just like him.” He propped his chin on top of Frisk’s head as he gazed out at the rain. “Well, between what I said earlier and us sitting out in this rain, we’re probably both dead. Sorry I can’t shortcut us somewhere dry, I’m totally spent.” 

Frisk made a humming noise, then let out an excited gasp. They nudged themselves loose from Sans’ hug, then shuffled around in their pockets for a moment. Finally they pulled out a slightly soggy pack of Monster Scout cookies.

“Oh hey!” Sans chirped excitedly. “I don’t know how you fit all this stuff into your pockets but I am not complaining.” He took several of the offered cookies, then began to munch. “Huh. The peanut butter froggits are still pretty good, even after the soggy cereal treatment.” He watched Frisk make a face and snickered. “Did ya get a Tem flavored one?” At the child’s nod he laughed. “All right, you can have one of mine.”

He went to hand off the Tsundere plane one, then abruptly pulled it out of reach. “'I-it’s not like I want to be eaten by you or anything, idiot!’” He chirped in a decent approximation of said monster's voice. Frisk giggled as they took the cookie.

The two remained like that, entertaining each other with the cookies. Around them the rain slowed to a drizzle, the first hints of morning light peeking through the clouds. The renewed summer heat made quick work of Frisk’s sopping hair and their wet clothes, a gentle breeze taking the edge off. Fortunately, the sticky humidity seemed to have passed and the storm was over. The sun was shining. Birds were chirping.

Frisk let out a long breath as their laughter tapered off. “It’s a beautiful day outside,” They whispered as they settled into Sans’ arms again, eyeing him meaningfully.

Sans blinked down at them, then smiled.

“Yeah. It is.”


	11. i'll always be there when you wake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And many months later I finally finish this novel about depression, geez. I'm sorry for the wait everyone, there have been a lot of things I've been busy with that I'll elaborate on at the end of the fic. But this chapter is 42 pages in length and features a whole lot of domestic cuteness and some closure for pretty much every character, so hopefully that makes up for it.
> 
> Some minor warnings, this chapter features some brief starts of Soriel, but it's easily ignorable. If it's not your cup of tea, I humbly request you just ignore it? It's very brief and barely has anything to do with the fic, I just couldn't resist indulging in my ship a bit. Also this chapter features some talk of, gasp, therapy. Oh no.
> 
> If you make it to the end, please leave me a comment and let me know what you enjoyed about the fic? I've written an entire novel here and I think it's some of the best writing I've ever done, so even just a sentence or two saying "I really enjoyed this" or some specific thing you enjoyed would really mean a lot to me.
> 
> The title of the chapter once again comes from the song No Rain by Blind Melon. Also briefly Sans sings a song called While I Shovel The Snow by The Walkmen, which is a song I highly recommend you look up and play for the final scene since I think it really helps set the mood.
> 
> Anyway, onward!

“Where do I even _begin_ with you two?”

Sans swallowed audibly, the sound echoing in Toriel's living room. He sat on the couch with Frisk, Papyrus wedged between them so as to more easily get his long arms around them both. The taller skeleton had maintained his Greatest of Brotherly Embraces from the moment he’d gotten in range up on the mountain, which had then become The Greatest of Brotherly Carries on the way back. This embrace had only been broken long enough for Sans to scrub the dirt and grime from his bones. He had also changed into a new t-shirt and shorts-- Papyrus had started leaving extras for both of them after an unfortunate tortellini incident. On one hand, this was convenient. On the other hand, it meant Sans was running out of excuses to avoid this conversation.

“Y-you know what, Tori? I think I’ve still got some grime in my joints and it's way uncomfortable. Very distracting. I’d better go scrub that up,” Sans said, shifting to get out of targeting range.

“Sans, don’t you _dare_ ,” Papyrus huffed from beside him, the grip around the smaller skeleton growing tighter.

“What, the Great Papyrus is allowing a mess to cuddle up next to him? C’mon bro, I know you can’t stand dirty jokes.” With those words Sans slid downward and out of Papyrus’ hug, bare toes lazily reaching for the floor.

“Do. Not. Move.” Toriel’s voice was a dangerous rumble that echoed through the room. Sans swore he could feel heat radiating from her glare.

He opted for settling back onto the couch in a nervous sweat. “You got it Tori. Staying right here, yep. Good to be home.”

Frisk let out a little snicker from the other side of Papyrus. Their still damp hair stuck every which way after their bath, cheerful band-aids beaming up from their knees.

“I do not see what is funny about the situation, Frisk! You are in just as much trouble,” The boss monster glared down at both of them for another moment, thick arms crossed before her. She then let out a sigh, face softening a fraction. “While I am pleased to have you both safe at home, it does not change the fact that you both put yourselves in quite a bit of danger. Frisk, dear, I don’t understand why you couldn’t have explained to everyone else where Sans was.”

The child shook their head. _“I didn’t know he’d be there, I just had a feeling. I didn’t want to make everyone excited when I wasn’t sure. Plus if more people found him, he might’ve just run away again,” They signed. “It was my fault he ran away in the first place. I didn’t want to bother anybody.”_ This last bit was underscored with a firm, determined nod of their head.

“Uh, hold on a sec,,” Sans said, holding a hand up. “You can’t blame yourself for my dumb ideas, Frisky Business. You didn’t do anything wrong. This whole mess was on me, we’ve been over this.” At these words he looked to Toriel, flashing an apologetic grin. “And I get that, I do, you don’t gotta lecture me. I did a lot of dumb stuff and none of this would have happened if I’d said something months ago.”

“That is true,” Papyrus spoke up. “For someone who talks so much, I wish this had come out far sooner. But… I understand why you both did not. I may not understand everything that happened, but I am certain it was very hard. You were both very brave to have withstood all that for so long and I am very proud of you!”

Frisk sniffed at that and laid their head on his shoulder. “Sorry Papyrus. I hated lying to you. And I’m sorry I ran away and… we...” They trailed off, mumbled words nearly lost to the whirring ceiling fan above them.

Papyrus shook his head, squeezing the tiny human into his ribs. “All’s forgiven, Frisk! And the same goes for you, brother of mine!” He squeezed Sans as well. “You both gave me quite the scare, but I am just glad to have you both safe!”

“Aw Pap,” Sans’ voice was muffled as he was pressed into the Cool Dude tanktop. “I really don’t deserve you. I’m the dumbass who went running off.”

“You are correct, Sans, and please watch your language. Need I remind you there is a child present.” Toriel nodded at Frisk, who flashed a guilty little smile. Something powerful came over the former Queen then, an added weight to her motherly disapproval as she eyed her captive audience. “While I understand you had good intentions, Frisk, and while I understand you were both going through a lot, it does not change the fact that you both did dangerous things. Frisk, what if you had been hurt climbing the mountain? To say nothing of your escapades, Sans.”

“That's fair. I coulda gotten some space without jumping cross country and worrying everyone.” Sans mumbled into his brother's shirt. “In retrospect it feels pretty dumb.”

Toriel sighed. “Exactly, and that's why--”

The front door slammed open. “LET ME AT THOSE PUNKS!”

A blue blur burst into the room. In seconds all three couch occupants were out of their seats and trapped in Undyne's enthusiastic embrace. “UNDYNE PLEASE, NOT THE WELCOME HOME SUPLEX!” Papyrus begged over Sans’ surprised wheeze and Frisk's squeak of delight.

Undyne gave a bellow of laughter as she twirled her victims around. “This isn't a suplex, this is a friendship chokehold!”

“Is the difference in the number of broken ribs?” Sans’ drawl was muffled by her tanktop.

“U-Undyne, please,” Alphys giggled as she followed her girlfriend into the room. “I’m pretty sure Sans is still recovering. Plus you promised to be more gentle with Frisk.”

“Oh yeah, I did!” Undyne grinned apologetically as she set her victims down on the hardwood floor. “Sorry, it’s just easy to forget when both little goblins can kick my ass.”

Toriel cleared her throat, crossing her arms before her as she glared at Undyne. Finned ears drooped slightly. “Oh, right. Swear jar. Sorry Toriel.” She pulled out a battered Revolutionary Girl Utena wallet (a true gem Alphys had rescued from the dump years ago) and began to dig through it. In spite of her loss of twenty-five cents to the jar in question, she was still grinning when she turned back to the group. “I’m just so happy to see these dorks alive and well! Especially the Bonehead here. I thought you were dead, ya dingus!”

Sans easily ducked her attempted noogie. “I could say the same for you, _Bruise Lee_. Glad to see Tori fixed ya up.”

“It was _not_ an easy job,” Toriel huffed as she eyed both of them. “I must ask if you two ever have a fight again, perhaps refrain from actively trying to kill each other.”

“Y-yes, please,” Alphys sighed as she drew in close, happily accepting an offered hug from Frisk. “You both-- I mean, obviously I don’t want to say don’t fight, Undyne, I know you love it, but just--”

“It’s okay, I know we took it too far,” Sans said, then winked. “No more abrupt physical activity for me. It’s a tough promise for me to make but don’t worry, I’ll keep it.”

Papyrus opened his mouth as if preparing to yell something, then paused for a moment. “...Perhaps instead of getting into all out fights with Undyne, we can go for walks when you feel better, brother. When you feel up to it, of course.” He flashed a quieter, hopeful smile as he fidgeted with the edge of his shirt.

Sans blinked up at his brother in surprise, he’d been expecting a jab or a push to join his brother's morning runs. “...Yeah, sure Pap. I’d like that.”

“Y-yeah! Walks are good. Maybe I'll join you, I should be getting out more too!” Alphys smiled but the way her lips twitched over her buck teeth betrayed her nervousness.

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Some kinda family walk time or something!” Undyne declared, her enthusiasm at odds with the supposed calm of the activity.

Toriel gave a thoughtful hum, tapping her chin with a claw. “That does sound lovely, though I doubt everyone's schedules will always align.” She then smiled and clapped her paws together decisively. “I suppose we’ll just go on a walk in the evenings and see who can accompany us.”

Frisk waved their hands for attention, grinning. _“Don’t worry Mom, we’ll all make time. It’ll be... a walk in the park!”_

The boss monster erupted into giggles. Papyrus let out a long-suffering groan as Sans patted the child on the head and gave a thumbs up. Undyne and Alphys snickered. It felt nice, a pocket of normalcy emphasized by the summer breeze lofting through the open window.

“Um, I just wanted to say I'm really glad Sans and Frisk are both okay,” Alphys piped up as the laughter petered off, tapping her claws together. “Y-you two had us really worried, you know. I never expected the GPS trackers were going to get this much use… and then of course they _didn’t_ , because you both kept leaving your phones.” Her cheeks puffed out in a frustrated huff, eyes narrowing into a glare.

Sans chuckled. “Aw c’mon Al, what fun is being mission control if you can pinpoint me right away?”

“N-not funny!” Alphys exclaimed. “I-I-- the entire reason I did that was in case of emergency, and you both ruined it! What if something had happened!? What if we hadn’t found you in time!? Sans, you were so... “ She trailed off, tail curling inward. Her joy at seeing them had eroded a bit to reveal the sea of anxiety beneath. “I… I’m glad you’re both okay, but I’m still a little hurt.”

Frisk reached up to hug her arm. _“I’m sorry Alphys, I left my phone with Papyrus. I have it now, see?”_ They finished signing before fishing into their pockets and pulling it out. The little heart charm attached to the phone jingled as they waved the contraption. _“It’s safe and sound and I’ll never leave it again, I promise!”_

“Yeah, I won’t do it again either, Al,” Sans said, reaching up to rub the back of his skull. “Sorry about that. Here you gave me a vital procrastination tool and I just left it with Ol’ Fluffybuns.”

“We know,” Undyne growled, eye narrowing as she crossed still bandaged arms. “You really did worry us, bud.”

The skeleton felt his soul sink under her sharp-toothed glare. He then sighed, holding up his palms. “All right, all right everyone, I get it. I scared everybody and you all definitely get a free pass on the whole ‘being mad’ thing. Next time I have a breakdown, I’ll do it closer to home.” His words fell flat, a sour note in the air that seemed to give them all pause. He winced. “Uh. Sorry, that was weird, I shouldn’t have--”

He was stopped by Papyrus arms looping around him. “Do not apologize, brother,” The taller skeleton said as he propped his skull on top of Sans’. “I am here. It is okay.”

Sans blinked, then awkwardly reached up to pat his brother’s arm.. “I… uh… Paps, c’mon bro. I’m just trying to lighten the mood, that’s all. I know I made you all worry and you’ve dealt with enough of my crap already.” He let out a small apologetic chuckle.

“Hey. It’s not crap.” Undyne’s voice was surprisingly gentle as she reached out to put a hand on his shoulder. “I… _we_ wanna hear this stuff, okay? I may not always get it, but I want to, just like I do with Al.”

Sans felt his insides twist. This wasn’t what he’d expected at all. He could feel what remained of the bile in his chest twisting, like a cornered animal. Sure, he felt better, but that didn’t mean he wanted to do this in front of everyone. It felt weird, uncomfortable, his ribs cracking open to unveil whatever lay within them. “I uh… that’s… that’s nice Undyne, thanks, but I--”

“It’s hard, right?” Alphys spoke up, reaching out to grab one of his hands in her claws. “I… I know it’s hard, and that’s why you joke about this stuff. There’s a lot of icky stuff in you and it feels wrong and uncomfortable to be honest about it, so you joke instead. But it’s not funny to us, j-just like it’s not funny when I call myself garbage. You breaking down _isn’t_ funny, and when it happens, we want to know. I want to help pick you up like you helped pick me up, you know?”

Sans swallowed. It hurt, his nonexistent throat felt like something was stuck in it. “T-thanks. But I… I don’t want... “

“Sans,” Toriel’s voice was gentle, nearly a lullaby. She put her arms around everyone, ears and long arms draping in a blanket of affection and warmth. “No one is expecting you to give a speech about what is going on for you. Our intent is not to put you on display. However, the past few days have taught us the dangers of silence. You do not have to speak if you are not ready to… but that does not mean you have to hide it either. None of us are upset with you for breaking down. It is understandable to be hurt. We merely wish you’d allow us to support you when you do.”

“T-Tori….” Sans choked out.

Frisk squeezed their way past everyone, wrapping their arms around his middle and pressing their face into his shirt. “Sans,” They whispered.. “Let’s try being honest, okay?”

His breath hitched. He squeezed his eyes shut. “I… okay. Okay then. I haven’t been…. I haven’t been good lately. For a long time, actually. I couldn’t…” He sucked in a deep, shaky breath. It felt cleansing, loosening grime that had been caked for years on his insides. “I should have said something. I should have admitted I wasn't good. I could have had space without worrying you all and I could have opened up a long time ago. I’m sorry everyone. I’m sorry I dragged you into this mess and worried you all. I can’t say I’m gonna be an open book anytime soon, but uh… I’ll try. And I’ll try to believe it when you all say you’re gonna be there. So uh. Thanks.”

They all stayed like that for a moment. Then came a heavy knock on the front door as if on cue. “Now who could that be?” Toriel muttered as Frisk untangled themselves from the group hug and scampered for the front door.

“Ah, Frisk, Good Afternoon!” Asgore's deep voice boomed from the entryway. “I am so glad to see you are-- oh dear, Toriel. There seems to be a hole in your wall!” The drywall gave a dutiful crumble at being remembered.

“Goddamnit,” Toriel cursed under her breath, then promptly went bright red as all eyes went to her.

“Whoa there Tori, I coulda _sworn_ such language was beneath you,” Sans teased as the group separated to properly gape at her.

“Yeah Toriel, there are _kids_ present!” Undyne grinned as she elbowed the former Queen. “Looks like somebody owes the jar.”

This got a good-natured sigh from the boss monster. “My apologies, I’ll get a quarter.”

“Uh, I apologize for the hole,” Asgore said as he strode into the living room, his horns barely clearing the doorway. Frisk was perched on his shoulder, beaming. “I promise I will fix it right away.”

“Naw your Majesty, that was all me!” Undyne sounded far more proud than she had any right to be. “Aaand I’m gonna fix it very soon, promise.” She added, withering under Toriel's death glare.

“I-I see.” Asgore's smile was an awkward thing, clearly feeling he’d missed something. He then coughed, clearing his throat. “I came as soon as I could, I believe Sans has returned?”

“You got it, your Kingliness,” Sans waved from the center of the group. “Sorry for lying to you when I left your place.”

“That is quite all right, Sans. I am just glad to see you safe,” The boss monster said, striding over to him and placing a heavy paw on his shoulder. “You gave everyone quite the scare, you know.”

Sans gave a sigh and a sheepish grin. “Yeah uh, I heard. A few times.”

“Serves you right,” Papyrus sniffed, folding his arms.

“Well, you weren’t the only one,” Asgore said as he adjusted Frisk on his shoulder. “From what I heard, someone else was rather naughty yesterday.”

The child fidgeted on his shoulder, then leaned against him, pressing their face into Asgore’s fluffy ears and golden mane. “Sorry dad. I had to go save Sans,” They mumbled.

“Speaking of which,” Toriel said, eyeing Frisk. “While I can appreciate your independence, my child, we have spoken before about this. I would rather you did not go running into dangerous situations by yourself when you have such a large family willing to help you. I’m afraid you’re grounded.”

Frisk’s lip poked out into a pout. _“Even though it was a good reason?”_ They signed.

“Yes, absolutely.” Toriel nodded firmly.

“Yeeeeaah, sorry but I’m with your mom on this one,” Undyne said, scratching her head.. “You gotta stop doing this stuff, what if something happens to ya and I’m not there to kick it’s butt?”

“Bummer kiddo,” Sans drawled as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “I told you so.”

Toriel turned on him, he felt his sins crawling on his back. “ _You_ are not off the hook either, mister. You’re also grounded!”

Sans sputtered. “You can’t ground me, I’m an adult!”

“I do not care!” Toriel huffed. “From this point forward you are not to be left alone until I say so, are we clear? That goes for you as well, Frisk.”

“I must agree with Miss Toriel on this,” Papyrus declared, arms still folded and appearing as stern as ever. “You gave us quite the scare. I suspect I will not feel comfortable for some time unless I know you are in somebody’s sight.”

His brother gave a long groan. He slumped dramatically backwards, allowing himself to be caught by the taller skeleton. “Et tu, Pap? I trusted you, bro,” Sans grumbled as he blinked upwards.

“Yes, and sometimes trust means allowing others to make healthier decisions on your behalf,” Papyrus said, wagging an admonishing finger down at him.

“I um… I’ve been in that situation, when things were bad before,” Alphys spoke up, raising a nervous claw. “You may be doing better but it’s still best to be safe… both for your sake and ours.”

Undyne nodded. “Yeah, it’s nothing to feel bad about. We just wanna make sure you two squirts are safe for awhile, that’s all. And you know what that means!” Her mouth split into a wide grin as she looped an arm around Asgore’s. She yanked him and Frisk closer so she could reach up to noogie the child. “FORCED FAMILY TIME, YEEEAAAH! YOU’LL NEVER BE RID OF US, PUNK!”

Frisk let out a squeal, trying and failing to bat her webbed hands away. “Noooooo!” They giggled, still laughing when Asgore swiped them from the fish monster’s grip.

“I’m afraid I must agree with Toriel, little one. I hope you understand, we all just want you to be safe,” The King said gently. Frisk gave a nod and a smile in return.

“Yeah yeah, I got it,” Sans sighed, though he was smiling lazily in his brother’s arms.

“Good, that's settled.” Toriel clapped her paws together and smiled. “Now then, as much as I love you all standing about my living room, I am sure it had been ages since our little runaways have eaten anything. How about I cook us up something? Yes Asgore, that includes you.”

The King’s tension eased from his shoulders as he set Frisk down on the ground. “Thank you Toriel. I know I do not--”

“Enough,” Toriel’s voice was hard for a moment but her face softened into a smile. “I think I have had enough of focusing on the past for one day. For now let us focus on the future… which in this case, means breakfast food.” With that, she turned and walked toward the kitchen.

Frisk gave an excited gasp as they followed her, tugging Asgore along by the paw. “Butterscotch pancakes!?”

“I don't see why not. I am just in the mood for breakfast… or should I say _Brinner_ , given the time?” Toriel’s giggles echoed from the kitchen.

“Heck yeah, Brinner!” Undyne cried, punching into the air as she followed. “Do you have bacon? Cause I want all of the bacon!”

“Some of the bacon is for other people, Undyne,” Alphys sighed.

“Indeed,” Papyrus tutted as he wandered toward the kitchen, picking up Sans without a word and carting him along. “Miss Toriel, please let me know how I can help! You have the capable cooking hands of the Great Papyrus to help you with this Happy Return Feast!”

This got a happy nod and a list of instructions from Toriel. Sans allowed the chaos to wash over him as he was set on one of the stools. Undyne was already deep into her passionate declaration that she would fight all that came between her and bacon. Her girlfriend laughed and played along even as her claws tapped away at the security blanket of her phone. Frisk played with Asgore’s ears, clearly delighted to have their entire family in the same room when that had been such a rarity lately. It was loud, energetic, occasionally obnoxious, tinted a light gold from the summer sunlight still pouring from the windows.

“You know,” Sans said as he propped his head on the countertop. “I gotta say…” He trailed off as all eyes turned to him just a bit too quickly, a lingering reminder of the hole he had left. “...I’m real grateful for this chance to _ketchup_ with all of you,” He grinned as he held up a ketchup bottle, then promptly downed it to the glorious melody of groans and Toriel’s uproarious laughter.

It wasn't perfect, of course. There was an emptiness where the pain in his chest had been, and everywhere he looked, the scars still seemed fresh. But it was a start and Sans would take it.

He watched Frisk crack eggs into a bowl and smiled.

\---

“You missed a spot.”

Sans’ voice was cheery from his place on the couch. His feet were propped at the top of it, head lolling down near the floor as he lounged upside down. He slurped lazily at a popsicle as he watched Undyne work.

“Shut up.” In contrast, Undyne was covered in dust and bits of dried plaster, her face a mask of annoyance. Thus far all she’d really managed to do was smear something that looked a bit like chunky peanut butter all over Toriel’s paint job. “This would be easier if your brother was here, Paps is always better about this fine detail junk.”

“Sure, but Paps didn’t make the mess, now did he?” Sans chirped.

“You’re awful cheerful for someone who’s grounded like a kid,” Undyne grumbled as she finally gave up and set to cleaning away her latest attempt. “How old are you again?”

“Old enough to recognize that you’re basically an angry teenager stuck babysitting my depressive ass while Tori and the kid get groceries.” Sans slurped at the popsicle. “Careful, if you get too wrapped up in your grumbling I might run off again.”

Undyne shot him a glare. “Don’t even joke, pal. I will hunt you down across the whole damn globe if I have to.”

Sans held up both hands in surrender, popsicle dangling from his jaw. “And risk you punching my eyelight out again? Wouldn't dream of it.” He tapped his still empty socket for emphasis.

The fish monster gave a snort that abruptly became a sneeze when she inhaled some plaster dust. She scrubbed at her face, gills flaring to get the plaster out. “Yeah, I’ll punch _you_ , sure,” She wheezed. “I'm amazed I got a hit in on you at all, man. I still can't believe you’ve been a badass this whole time and I never knew.”

Sans shrugged. The effect was somewhat lost in his upside down state. “The element of surprise is helpful… though let's be real, I’m just too lazy to try unless I have no choice.”

“You don't say,” Undyne said with a roll of her eye. “That's a shame. That was the best workout I’ve had in a long time.”

“I mean, same, but I’m pretty sure your broken ribs counteract the gains.” Sans said.

Undyne snorted as she wiped at the now clean wall with a wet cloth. She scrubbed at it in silence for a few moments. “You know. I’m sorry about how it happened, I really am, I shouldn’t have lashed out at you like that. It wasn’t right.” Her tone was surprisingly subdued. “I give that jerk dummy a job for obvious reasons, I shouldn’t be using you as a punching bag.”

“Mmm.” Sans gazed up at the lazily rotating ceiling fan, listening to the summer breeze sighing through the house. “Apology accepted, but let’s face it, I wasn’t making it easy for you to take the high road. I egged you on cause I had some tension to bleed off too. If anything, I’m the one who used you as a punching bag.”

“Hlel yeah you did!” Undyne laughed, rotating her still bandaged shoulder. “It’s been days and I’m still healing even with magic, you really did a number on me!”

That got a laugh. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be!” Undyne was scooting across the floor in her enthusiasm about the subject. “I was serious about it being a great workout. Your brother’s a great sparring partner but we go at it all the time. I just wish we could do it again but with less attempted murder!”

Sans bit into the softened popsicle as he flipped over to finally sit on the couch like a normal person. “I dunno about that. You saw how bad I am at taking hits.”

“So? Your endurance can go up if you work at it. I mean it's not gonna happen overnight, but it's doable. We'll be careful.” At Sans’ incredulous look, she scowled. “Hey, I know I’m reckless, but I'm serious about training. Everyone’s gotta respect their own starting point and I’m not expecting you to suplex boulders. It’s not like I have a problem with the way you are, you’ve made it pretty clear you can take care of yourself… but uh, Paps worries and after grazing you once…”

A faraway look came over her for a second, her gills flared as she swallowed. Sans sighed as he plucked the half eaten popsicle from his mouth to speak. “It’s not all your fault, Undies. You didn’t know how bad it was. I did and I pushed it.”

“I _should_ have,” She muttered as she pulled her knees up to her chest. “I should have known a lot of things, I used to be your boss.. I’ve spent more time with Paps than you-- and I mean, he’s my best friend so that makes sense. But that fight…” She sighed, running a webbed hand through her hair. “Sorry man. I’m not trying to harp on you about your health, you gotta make your own decisions. I just… it’s weird, but like… I had fun. Even though we were fighting, I had fun. Is that weird?” A yellow eye flicked to him. Sitting there with, her lean body curled around itself, ponytail and ears still drooping like a fallen warrior, Undyne was the most vulnerable Sans had ever seen her.

Sans gaped in surprise at her. Then, slowly, he smiled. “Nah. I actually had fun too. It felt good to let my magic loose. You might have the right idea on the sparring thing, I’m just not a big fan of physical activity. But uh…” He sighed, rubbing his head. “You know what? All right, I’ll try it. Don’t expect me to run marathons ever but I could get behind kicking your ass again. Maybe I’ll join you and Papyrus when you spar.”

“R-really!?” Undyne’s lips split into a wide, toothy grin. “Aw man, I’m so pumped! Paps will be too! We can start slow in the backyard until your stamina gets better! That way if something goes wrong, Toriel can help.”

“Good plan,” Sans said, giving a thumbs up. “Gotta say, it’s a shame I don’t have a better punchline for this situation.”

The fish monster snorted at that, then reached into her pocket. “Hey uh…. One more thing, since I dunno when you’ll have the magic to get your eyelight back.” She tossed something into his lap.

Sans blinked at the eyepatch in his hands. It was pretty well made, with a white Apple logo printed on it. A grin spread across his face as it dawned on him. “Oh my God. It's an iPatch.”

Undyne beamed. “Yeah, I thought you'd appreciate it. I actually got you a few more with dumb patterns on them but I left those at home. Now we can be eyepatch bros!”

Sans considered this for a moment. He’d always done his best to keep his broken eye socket a secret. It took a bit of magic, sure, but a light show was better than nothing. But well, that did get tiring, and it wouldn't kill him to save his energy around the house. Besides, in a choice between vanity and a pun, he’d always choose a pun.

He slipped the eyepatch on. “How do I look?”

“Totally rad!” Undyne declared, then paused. “Nah, you look like a dweeb. It's perfect.”

Sans laughed. “Guess eye won’t complain then. Thanks Undies.”

She gave him a thumbs up before returning to her work, giving the plaster a threatening growl. Clearly it just hadn't been scared into submission properly and that was the problem. Sans snickered as he watched, reaching up to absently fiddle with the new accessory. It felt a bit strange, but it was kind of nice to cover the gaping hole in his head

Maybe it wasn't so bad to drop the act once and awhile.

\---

The sound of shrieking laughter filled the air. The pool noodle race was in full force, and from the looks of things, Undyne and Alphys had a sizable lead on Papyrus and Frisk. Hooting laughter and cheers echoed through the backyard as Papyrus chased after Undyne, Frisk squealing with laughter on his shoulders. “Undyne, Undyne be careful, aaaaa!” Alphys shrieked as she held on for dear life. The patchy brown grass crunched beneath Undyne’s feet as she ran, wet hair trailing behind her. The small wading pool sat some distance away, forgotten amongst the chaos.

Sans watched it all go by, chuckling to himself. He was settled on the bench swing, having been declared still a bit weak for rough-housing of any kind. Thus he got the joy of being an amused spectator instead. “Whoa, careful there Pap, she might slip away from you!” He called out from the bench swing. As he spoke, Undyne managed to put in a final sprint and slid down the slip-n-slide surfer style.

“TEN POINTS!” She cried, drowning out Alphys’ yelp of “Undyne, Undyne, you were supposed to put me DOWN and-- UNDYNE!”

“Undyne, please use the slip-n-slide properly.” Toriel called out from the front porch.

Undyne slowed, pouting. “But Toriel--”

“She is correct Undyne, safety first!” Papyrus admonished as he set Frisk down. “We both know part of the game is to safely deposit your passenger on the ground before you continue the race portion of the game.”

The fish monster’s shoulders slumped. “Yeaah, yeah, fair enough. Sorry Al.”

“I-it’s okay, Undyne! It was fun, I’d just rather have seen it from the safety of the ground,” Alphys chuckled.

The race continued soon enough, the hoots and roars of battle echoing from the backyard. Sans watched it all with a smile, a chuckle echoing deep in his ribcage.

“Would you like some lemonade, Sans?” Toriel's voice held a gentle smile as she approached with two glasses. “Of course, it does come with my company.”

Sans beamed as he took the offered glass. “Well with that kind of sweet deal, how could I say no?” He winked.

Toriel giggled. “I am going to assume that was a wink. I could not tell because of the eyepatch.” She sat on the bench swing beside him as she spoke. The motion sent them both gently swaying in the summer breeze.

“Oh, whoops.” Sans lifted up the patch, then winked once more. “Sorry about that, it’s easy to forget it’s there.”

“I would assume that is a good thing,” The boss monster said as she got herself settled, smoothing out her skirt with one paw while clutching her own lemonade in the other. “It means you are comfortable with it.”

“Kind of,” Sans shrugged as he sipped the lemonade. “It’s a bit different when it’s around you guys. I dunno what I’m gonna do if the eyelight never comes back-- I feel like an eyepatch is more noticeable in public than an empty socket.”

“Yes, because you were so inconspicuous before,” Toriel pointed out dryly.

Sans huffed. “Hey, I’m kinda outside people’s eyeline, it might be true.”

“I think that’s rather short-sighted of you, Sans.”

The skeleton laughed at that. The two sat in companionable silence for awhile-- well, relative silence, given the chaos before them. After some time, Toriel let out a sigh. “We ought to talk, I suppose.”

“That’s never a good sentence,” Sans murmured as his gaze flicked from the backyard chaos to the sweating glass in his hands. “But all right, shoot.”

“Mmm. I heard some… things, from Frisk,” Toriel began slowly, reaching to fiddle absently with one of her ears. “After they woke up from one of their nightmares. Things you said to them up on Mount Ebott.”

Sans flinched. “Ah. That.”

“Mmm,” The boss monster’s tone was grim. “I have no doubt some of it was things that need to be said, but--”

“Nah,” The skeleton let out a sigh, rubbing the back of his skull. “I mean… yeah, sure, there were some things I had to get off of my chest. But I could have worded it all a lot better, some of it was necessary but a lot of it was just mean. They came to help me and I just kinda trauma vomited all over them.”

Toriel nodded. “You did quite a bit of that, judging from what I heard of your conversation with Alphys and… well, that morning.”

“Yeah. You’re not wrong.” Sans slid down in his seat until his upper half was laying on the bench. His legs dangled before him, bare toes poking at dried grass. “I dunno what to tell ya, Tori. I said some pretty awful things. I don’t think it’ll happen again, I’m pretty sure I’m past it. Still, I get that ‘it won’t happen again’ doesn’t exactly excuse anything.”

“Have you spoken with them about it? Since it happened.” Toriel asked as she glanced out at the yard again. The focal point of their conversation was excitedly bouncing on Papyrus’ shoulders, blissfully unaware.

“Uh,” Sans gave a nervous laugh at that. “I did apologize and try to take it back on the mountain, but other than that, no.” Toriel’s glare turned to him and he winced. “I know, it’s bad, I’m… I’m working on it. I dunno if you noticed, but talking about my feelings hasn’t ever been my strong suit. The only reason I talked to Undies is because she approached me. This is hard enough with just Pap-- he won’t leave me alone. I appreciate that, I do, and uh… I mean, we’ve been talking little by little, it’s just…” He let out a breath. “It’s hard. I carried it alone for a long time and it’s hard to not feel like things would still be better that way.”

“But you did not carry it alone,” The boss monster reminded him gently. “You may not have spoken about it, but all of this… baggage, I suppose is the right word, it has affected every one of us. Leaving it alone only causes more problems, you already know that.”

The skeleton grimaced. “Yeah, I know. I’m…” He trailed off, seemingly losing his words as his gaze went to the glass of lemonade in his hands.

“Sans,” A warm paw reached down to touch his arm and Sans blinked in surprise. “No one is angry or upset with you for this. Your problems do not excuse your actions, but your friends do understand. This is not a burden for us, we merely wish to help you. I am only speaking with you about this to remind you of this fact… and also to remind you things will not truly get better if you do not push for it.”

“I…” Sans swallowed as his gaze went to the glass again. He was silent for a few moments. “I need to tell you something, Tori. Something that might change your mind.” With those words he sat up again, the bench wavering with his movements.

Toriel frowned, brow furrowing. “Go on…”

The skeleton’s eye flicked to her, then he seemed to think better of looking and focused on the glass in his hands once more. “I… before I met you, before I knocked on that door… I was sentry for awhile. Not just in Snowdin, I was sentry for most of the Underground. And sure, sometimes I missed when kids went through, sometimes I was sleeping because of course I was. But if I spotted one, if I could keep ‘em from my brother, well…” He trailed off. Toriel had gone completely stiff next to him.

“...I killed two of the humans, Tori. One with a cyan soul and one with a green soul. I didn’t think much of it at the time-- just doing my job, I figured, and sure it kind of weighed on me but I figured… history books said a human could do a lot of damage and all my readings of the souls didn’t say any differently. LOVE is a powerful thing and I can sense it. They weren’t totally clean, so….” He sucked in a breath and let it out slowly.

“I know that doesn’t excuse it. And I should have told you earlier. After I met you, sure, I kept my promise as best as I could, but… “ Sans trailed off again. “I wish there was more I could say besides another apology. “

Silence hung between them, heavy, cold, and deeply at odds with the warm chaos of the day. There was a soft, consistent ringing- his phalanges shaking against the glass, Sans realized. He fought to steady them but it seemed impossible, he hadn't woken up this morning with the intention of ruining his closest friendship and now that the writing was on the wall he wasn't sure he could take it.

“...But this was… before you met me, correct?” Toriel asked slowly.

Sans nodded.

The boss monster let out a long breath. “Well. I suppose you were no different from the rest of the Underground. And given your job and what you were taught about humans…” Her voice hitched for a moment and she gave a sigh. “But you changed after you met me. You kept your promise.”

“Yeah,” Sans said as he shifted back upwards, sitting up straight. “Unless the timeline went bad. Which means, to be honest, I’ve broken my promise a lot.”

“Yes, I am aware of that now,” Toriel said. “But I believe, given the circumstances that have been explained to me, I…” She trailed off, reaching up to fiddle with one of her long ears. “No. I think, at the end of the day, your actions are not my place to judge. The children’s deaths weigh upon me, as I’m sure they do you, but…. The past few weeks have made it clear to me. No one here is innocent. Not even me.” She bit her lip, expression pained as she gazed out at the backyard.

Sans winced. “Don’t say that, Tor. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He got a headshake for his trouble. “No, Sans. I. I must be honest. I abandoned my people. Regardless of how I felt about my former Husband’s choices, I had a duty to my people. In the end, I left them. I retreated to the ruins and hid, I chose sanctuary and damning my people to a slow, empty existence. I had my reasons, and I would not do things differently, because I had no way of knowing the miracles that child would bring, but…” Her breath hitched again.

The skeleton gazed up at her for awhile. Then, gently, carefully, he reached out to take her hand. She blinked in surprise, but did not pull away. Sans smiled sadly. “Hey, come on. Like you said, you wouldn’t do anything differently. And neither would I. Like you said, it’s in the past. You forgave the kid, right? That means you gotta forgive yourself too.”

“Oh Sans,” Toriel chuckled through her own hitching breaths, reaching up to wipe away the tears forming in her eyes. “I believe the saying is the pot calling the kettle black, is it not?”

“Whoa, watch it Tori. I came out here to have a good time and honestly, I’m feeling so attacked right now.” Sans wagged his eyebrow ridges and forced a grin as he spoke, eliciting a laugh from the boss monster. The sound was music to his non-existent ears, but the Judge within him urged him to move the topic once more. “But seriously. I appreciate your forgiveness… but what does that mean for Asgore? I hate to make things serious again, but… if you forgive me for killing, I dunno if it’s right for you to keep tearing him down like you do.”

Toriel’s expression grew sour, her grip tightening on Sans’ hand. “I…” She grit her sharp teeth for a moment, then took a deep breath. “No. You are correct, Sans. And it is not right for me to hold onto this when the entire family is trying to move forward. It is just…” She shook her head, voice growing hard and picking up in pitch. “Yours were the actions of sentry and judge. He changed the outlook of our entire family. He ignored the good actions of our son, and I--”

Her rant was cut off by a “SCORE!” from Undyne, followed by laughter. The sound seemed to bring the former Queen back to the warmth of the summer day. Toriel blinked in surprise, then winced.

“...I suppose I too come with baggage, don’t I?” She murmured, eyes growing sad as she looked down to her skeleton friend.

Sans’ smile was gentle as he sipped at his now diluted lemonade. “Yeah. Well, pot, kettle, black, y’know.”

“Now who’s attacking whom with such a phrase?” Toriel asked with a teasing chuckle. She gazed out at the yard again, then let out another breath as she pulled her hand away. “To get back to the topic at hand, I forgive you, Sans. You will not find Judgement for your actions from me. That being said, I have some concerns on how this baggage is affecting our family. Not just yours, but mine as well, and Frisk’s.” She sipped her own lemonade. “Have you considered therapy?” She asked conversationally.

Sans very nearly spat out his lemonade. “Uh. Nope, nah, definitely not. Why would I?” Toriel fixed him with a look, he chuckled. “Okay, point, “ He sighed as he scratched his skull. “Sorry, I just… I dunno. It sounds weird. I know I’ve been through a lot but a therapist feels excessive.”

Torie’s look intensified. “Sans, you watched your brother and all your friends die countless times. You died countless times. If that does not qualify you for therapy, I do not know what does.” The skeleton flinched next to her and she let out a sigh. “My apologies, I should not be so cavalier. But surely you see why this reaction only adds to what I am telling you.”

Her friend let out a long breath. “I… I do, I just…. It feels... I’ve been doing it on my own for a long time, you know? It’s hard enough to share it with you guys, let alone a stranger. I know, I get it, believe me, this whole mess has taught me I gotta share. But a therapist? It feels like… I dunno, giving in somehow?”

“And is giving in such a bad thing?” Toriel asked gently.

Sans said nothing to that.

“I know it is hard, Sans. And I understand your misgivings. But I am already considering asking Frisk if they are willing to go. I… believe it would help, with the nightmares at least. I think it would make them feel better if you were also there.” The boss monster murmured. “As another point of consideration… I hate to bring this up, but the fact remains that your baggage has potentially caused serious damage to my child. I trust that you love them and want what is best for them, but given the past few days…”

Sans looked out at the child on Papyrus’ shoulders, feeling his chest tighten. “No, that’s fair. I wouldn’t want me alone with the kid either, after what happened.” He traced his fingertips through the sweat around the glass in his hands. “Is it weird that I can’t handle that? Like… a part of me, deep down, is still kinda mad. Even now, after airing it at all out, it’s hard to forget what they did… and what I did, for that matter. But the idea of not being around them is…” He trailed off, words catching in his nonexistent throat.

Now it was Toriel’s turn to take his hand. Her fur felt smooth and cool, slightly damp thanks to the sweat on the lemonade glass as she gazed down at him. “I do not want to limit your time with them, but... the child has had enough trauma to last many lifetimes. We all have. Healing is a long road, but I would like us all to at least begin it. If you are willing to.”

Sans swallowed. Then he nodded. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll try going with you guys. And if it works, hey, maybe I’ll even do it by myself. I guess we’ll see how good the therapist is.”

Toriel flashed a gentle smile. “I am glad to hear that, Sans. I hope Frisk will be as well. Perhaps it is vain of me to wish this, but… you both have carried this for so long. If I could carry even a bit of it, just for a moment, I would love to.” Her grip tightened on Sans’ hand as she gazed down at him.

The skeleton took a deep, shaky breath and grinned. “Well you know, given how strong you are, I think you could carry both of us if you tried.”

Toriel giggled at that. “You are both rather small, it is hardly a challenge.”

“True, Frisk is a kid and I’m all bones,” Sans’ grin became more honest as Toriel let out a full on snorting laugh.

“Oh my God you two, get a room!” Papyrus cried from across the backyard, causing both skeleton and boss monster to jump.

“Her Majesty and Sans, sittin’ in a tree~!” Undyne crowed loudly. Apparently the slip-n-slide race had been put on hold for the far more exciting game of watching Sans and Toriel. Alphys was bright red and squealing into her claws, while Frisk made kissy noises and clapped excitedly.

Sans felt his face growing warm as bright blue magic flooded his cheekbones. “I-- uh, c’mon guys, you’re really uh…it’s not…” Why couldn’t he come up with a pun?

Toriel hummed. “He is correct, the conversation is not of that nature, unfortunately. I had not gotten to the part where I asked him out to this lovely teashop I found the other day. When he has time and has all the current mess a bit more under control, after all.” She sighed as she sipped her lemonade.

She did not remove her paw from Sans’ hand.

Sans let out a sputtering noise at that. “I...uh… y-yeah, sure. I’d uh, that sounds… great?” He didn’t mean for his voice to sound so confused and so squeaky, he just. Sure he’d had thoughts of it before, but the conversation had started out in such a different place that he was having trouble.

Undyne let out a loud “WHOOO!” and punched the air as Alphys’ squeals intensified.”Good job, brother!” Papyrus crowed as Frisk whistled. The four promptly ran to take a victory lap in Sans’ honor around the backyard.

Amongst the chaos, Toriel’s coy smile softened. “My apologies Sans, it is just far too fun to fluster you and it happens so rarely. You do not have to go to the teashop with me if you do not wish it. It also does not have to be a date if you do not want to be.”

“I uh, no, no, that’s not it! I’d love to!” Sans exclaimed. “I just-- y’know, it’s just…” He trailed off, then took a large gulp of the watery lemonade to compose himself. After doing so he took a deep breath. “I’m. I’ve always wanted that. It’s just… y’know, between that and therapy, moving on is…”

“Hard,” Toriel finished for him gently, still holding his hand. “I know. Believe me, I know all too well.”

There was a moment of relative silence as they watched the chaos.

“But I think as long as it’s with you,” Sans said as he looked down at his hand in her paw. “I uh. I think that’d be okay.”

“Mmm. I feel the same.”

“Good. I hope you’re ready for some great therapy jokes, cause lemme tell ya, I’m gonna bring my A game.” Sans grinned.

Toriel chuckled. “Well I certainly hope so. I’m treating you to tea, so I expect at least some compensation.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to pun out.”

Toriel laughed again. The sound, combined with the laughter and chaos of the backyard, made Sans’ chest feel a little lighter.

\---

The heatwave was back. It loomed over the city, the heavy paw of a great beast pinning it's prey with nary a thought. Traffic jams bred in the heat like flies, clogging downtown with the buzzing rage of broken air conditioning and missed appointments. Pedestrians flitted from pocket of shade to shade, carefully manicured flowerbeds wilted.

In spite of all that, Sans was having a decent day. Downtown was melting, but the park pavilion he and his brother were sitting under was bearable. Job applications littered the picnic table, pinned down by phones and in varying states of completion. Sans slurped at the last dregs of his strawberry-pineapple smoothie. “Drat, forgot my social security number again,” He said, grinning up at his brother across the picnic table.

Papyrus groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “Brother, you’ve written it fifteen times today. Surely by now you can remember, I remember it!”

Sans shrugged as he reached up to fiddle absently with his eyepatch. “I mean, if two monsters remember the number it isn't very secure, is it?”

“So _you_ remember it so _I_ can forget!” His brother huffed.

The shorter skeleton chuckled as he pushed the nearly completed application across the picnic table. “All right. Well aside from the social, how's this look?”

Papyrus plucked the paper from the table, beady eyes glancing over it. Sans relaxed in his seat as he waited. A breeze sighed through the trees, he closed his eyes for a moment and breathed with them. Job hunting had not been as painful as he’d expected, though it was still a bit overwhelming. The whole thing seemed like a lot of effort to get rejected from the bottom rungs.

“Why didn't you include your internship as a scientist in your work history?” Papyrus asked, quirking a brow

Sans shrugged again. “It's not exactly relevant to a job at a deli. Really the only qualifying job I have for that is the hot dog stand.”

Papyrus frowned. “But you have had so many jobs…”

“Careful bro, that sounds an awful lot like you're saying I worked hard. You know I won't _stand_ for that kind of slander.” He winked as he tapped at the hot dog stand entry on the application.

His brother frowned at him for another moment, then reached out to touch Sans’ thin wrist. “Brother, I wish you would not put yourself down like that. Didn't Miss Gray ask you not to?”

Sans grimaced, tensing at the mention of his rabbit therapist. It had been two weeks and he still felt uncomfortable mentioning it. “Uh. Yeah. She did say that.” He rubbed the back of his skull, eyes flicking around the park. Nobody was close enough to overhear their conversation, but Papyrus’ voice tended to carry.

Beady eyes watched his reaction for a moment. “Are you embarrassed about seeing her?”

“Ha, what? Nah, of course not, I don't _carrot_ all!” Sans grinned, then slowly deflated as Papyrus stared him down. “I mean… of course I'm a bit uncomfortable. Alphys was right, Miss Gray is great. Kinda intense but in a good way. I just…” He trailed off, shoving his straw into the icy remnants of slush at the bottom of the cup.

“Everyone already knows I’m weak and lazy. I don't want them to know I’m... broken too.” The words were barely a whisper, nearly swallowed by the crunch of the ice.

“But you are not broken,” Papyrus said gently, reaching to place his hands on his brother's. “You were hurt and you are healing. Would you be ashamed if you had a cold and needed to rest?”

Sans snorted. “Sounds ideal.”

A sigh. “Yes, well, why can't that apply to your emotional health as well?”

The shorter skeleton said nothing at that, slurping loudly on nonexistent smoothie. When Papyrus didn’t drop it, he let out a sigh and put the cup down. “It’s… different, I guess. It feels different, even if everybody says it’s not. I dunno. It’s hard.”

“Your feelings built up for a long time and it will take a long time for you to sort them out. But worry not!” Papyrus leaped up from the picnic table, posing dramatically. “I, the Great Papyrus, will be by your side to help you every step of the way! And as you know, I am an excellent sorter!” He glanced down at his brother, settling into a more relaxed pose. “So perhaps come to me with these feelings instead of insulting yourself.”

Sans sighed, then gave a small smile. “Fair enough. But it doesn't change the fact that a lot of my work experience doesn't apply up here.”

“I suppose that is fair,” Papyrus admitted as he reached down and shuffled through applications. “I just do not enjoy seeing you sell yourself short. You are very talented and you--” He stopped, watching Sans’ growing grin. “Come on Sans, it wasn't on purpose!”

“That just makes it even better, bro.” Sans laughed. “I know getting you to make a pun is a _tall_ order!”

“Sans!” Papyrus groaned as he scooped the applications up and carefully placed them in a folder. “Come along, we should return these. Remember to ask for a manager when you turn each one in!” With those words he passed the folder to Sans.

Sans let out a groan at that as he slipped off of the bench. “I’m not so sure that works bro, they’re probably pretty busy.”

“You never know,” His brother hummed. “Maybe you will get lucky and you’ll meet someone who actually enjoys your sense of humor.”

The two made their way out of the park back to the sidewalk. They walked at a leisurely pace, bantering back and forth and doing their best to stick to shade of any nearby buildings. This meant taking a shortcut through the local community college campus, which was certainly preferable to the hoards of angry traffic and sun on the main streets.

It was on this trip that Sans spotted a poster and paused, something strange stirring in him. He blinked up at the obvious stock image of some appropriately diverse students bent over a steaming beaker and beaming. “Making bad chemistry jokes because all the good ones argon,” Sans read aloud, then snorted. There were several other posters, all with varying quality of puns and stock images. His breath caught in his nonexistent throat as he spotted several humans silhouetted against a starry sky, adjusting the biggest telescope he’d ever seen. “Shoot for the stars-- even if you miss, you can still get a great start at Ebott Community College.”

“Sans?” Papyrus prodded him gently. “Are you all right?”

“Uh… yeah,” Sans said slowly. “Just. Looking.”

Papyrus glanced up at the ads, then huffed. “Their sense of humor would be as bad as yours.” There was a beat of silence as he gazed down at his brother. “You… want to go, don't you?”

“What!? Nah, I’m done with that kinda thing!” Sans snorted as he jerked his gaze away a bit too quickly. “We can't afford it and I don't think I have it in me to do the part time thing plus school. So. You know. C’mon, these applications aren't gonna return themselves.” With those words he turned to walk away, only to be stopped by his brother's hand on his shoulder.

“Sans. I can afford it.“

Sans shook his head, keeping his gaze on the ground. “You’re trying to save up for a house. I should be helping with that.”

“Forget the house, it can wait!” Papyrus insisted.

That got another headshake. “No, not letting you do that, bro. Let’s just forget it, okay?” He tried to move away again but Papyrus’ grip remained firm. “Paps. C’mon, let me go. You’re the one always getting after me for being irresponsible. I’ll just get multiple jobs again and save up or something after the house, it’s fine, there’s plenty of time. So--”

“Sans.” Papyrus moved closer, squatting down so he could catch his brother’s gaze. “If there is plenty of time, there is no reason why we can’t put the house off and focus on you going to school first if that is what you want. You took many jobs when I was trying to be a part of the royal guard. You help Toriel and Frisk all the time. Why won’t you let us return the favor, brother?”

Sans swallowed thickly as he gazed down at his brother. Then he groaned, putting his face in his hands. “You’re so cool, bro. How’d I end up with such a cool brother, huh? You’re making me look bad in front of my peers, you know? ‘Hey look, there’s that weird short skeleton who cried on campus like some kind of dumb baby bones.’.”

Papyrus beamed as he stood up straight again. “Nonsense! You may not be as cool as I am, but being related to me means you must have at least a bit of greatness in you! I am certain everyone here will see that soon enough, assuming you truly wish to pursue a higher education!”

His brother nodded. “I uh… I’d be curious to see what’s different up here. I had a degree back in the Underground but I’m not sure how much of it translates up here. Classes might be a bit outta my reach.”

“Well, then you will have plenty to learn!” Papyrus declared. “Come, I think we still have time to get you registered! Onward, to the registration office!” With those words he pointed dramatically forward.

Sans glanced where he pointed. “Uh. Bro. That’s the library. Maybe we should go find a map or something.”

“Er…” Papyrus reached up to sheepishly rub the back of skull. “Yes, you are correct. Very well. To a map so we can find the registration office!”

“My hero,” Sans chuckled as the two of them began to wander. They walked in silence for a moment before he spoke, studiously keeping his eye sockets peeled for a map. “Hey bro? Thanks.”

“Think nothing of it, brother.”

\---

The stillness of the night was a comforting weight as Sans pieced his way through calculus equations. His laptop cast a white glow across his otherwise dark room, creating dark shadows from the old friends of sock piles and his treadmill. He sucked absently at a can of V8 as he worked, fresh tomato juice a welcome change from the old ketchup taste of the Underground. His brother’s snores from next door joined the consistent tap of his keyboard, the familiar song and dance of late nights spent studying.

He let out a sigh as he leaned back in the old office chair, listening to the hinges squeak. He poked absently at the tufts of fuzz poking out of one of the arm rests. Okay, he wasn’t exactly stuck, per say. Sans had discovered very quickly that in spite of being slightly rusty, his skills hadn’t diminished in the slightest. His energy levels, however, still left a lot to be desired, and he could feel his thoughts starting to scatter like marbles on glass.

It was frustrating. Back in the Underground, he’d worked two side jobs while keeping an eye on a far younger Papyrus, and he’d still managed the late nights with his college work. Now he could only seem to focus for half an hour max before he needed a break, to say nothing of long mornings spent sleeping. Good thing he’d stuck to part time classes, even though that had felt absurd at sign-up time. How long was this degree going to take, and how long was he going to piggyback on Papyrus’ good will? Why was he even bothering to--

No. Sans shook his head, then took several deep breaths, counting down. He focused on the low hum of his computer fan, the chirping crickets in the September air. The sound of the tips of his phalanges drumming against his worn desk.

Papyrus wanted to help him. Everyone wanted to help him. He was still getting back on his feet, and that was okay. It was going to be okay.

He sighed, then switched from his homework tab to the Undernet tab on his browser. One refresh later and he was scrolling his way listly through his dashboard, eyes flicking over his third readthrough of Undyne’s all caps lock review of Boku no Hero Academia. Not much going on there. Maybe he’d tried that Facebook thing with his new classmates, they seemed to like him enough in class and he’d been invited enough times, he should probably-

There was a soft ‘ding’ as the messenger application popped up-- Alphys’ anime girl icon glittered up at him. Her message contained a single gif. Sans wasn’t sure what it was, something between a lizard and llama, but it seemed strangely happy as it bounded along the white space through infinity.

_*legendaryfartmaster89: some vintage ‘06 wtf. i dig it._

_*ALPHYS: Oh thank God you remembered it. I was worried I was the only one._

_*legendaryfartmaster89: you know i remember all the memes. i am the undernet ancient and forever._

_*ALPHYS: lol_

Sans smiled to himself as he nursed the V8 can in his hands. That was nice, it felt normal. He pointedly ignored the fact that their disastrous conversation hung somewhere far above in the messenger history.

_*ALPHYS: So what are you doing up at this hour? I thought you were supposed to be a responsible student._

_*legendaryfartmaster89: aw cmon al you know me better than that_

_*legendaryfartmaster89: im working on homework_

_*ALPHYS: O-oh. How are your classes going?_

_*legendaryfartmaster89: cant complain. calculus is easier than i remember tbh. If im not napping in class im helping my classmates_

_*ALPHYS: That’s surprisingly proactive, good for you! ^_^_

Sans chuckled at the emoticon.

_*legendaryfartmaster89: well i gotta make up for all the class clowning i do._

_*ALPHYS: I-I’d say you’re a little old for that, but we all know the truth._

_*legendaryfartmaster89: yeah. hey al why is a calculus book always unhappy?_

_*legendaryfartmaster89: it has a lot of problems._

_*ALPHYS: lol_

_*ALPHYS: That was actually pretty good._

_*legendaryfartmaster89: thanks i worked real hard at it._

The skeleton smiled to himself as he gazed down at the chat window, drumming his fingers absently against the can. Alphys wasn’t typing, and he briefly considered getting back to his work. The emptiness of the text box called to him however, reminded him of the weight of words scrolled far above it.

Well. Alphys wouldn’t be going to bed for awhile anyway, so he may as well get on with it.

_*legendaryfartmaster89: hey al do u have a minute?_

There was a pause that was far longer than he expected. Then came the typing ellipsis, the typing going on for far longer than necessary given Alphys’ reply.

_*ALPHYS: S-sure, what’s up?_

Sans took a deep breath, Then, hesitantly at first, he began to type.

_*legendaryfartmaster89: im really sorry for what i said to u a few weeks ago._

_*legendaryfartmaster89: u were just trying to help and i spat in ur face_

_*ALPHYS: O-oh! No, it’s fine, it’s really fine! I shouldn’t have been getting into your business anyway, it’s my fault for sticking my nose where it didn’t belong._

_*legendaryfartmaster89: nah. thats not right and u know it._

_*legendaryfartmaster89: i was an ass._

He went to type more, but was interrupted by Alphys’ rapid-fire messages. God, she was so much faster at typing than she ever was at speaking.

_*ALPHYS: No!_

_*ALPHYS: I mean, yes, you were._

_*ALPHYS: But you were right about some things. I may not have known what the flower did, but I was responsible for it._

_*ALPHYS: And I never owned up to it, I never owned up to ANYTHING unless I was cornered. If I’d bothered to say anything, maybe we could have had that conversation when you were feeling better._

_*ALPHYS: I fucked up, and you paid the price for it. I mean, everyone did, but you and Frisk most of all. That’s on me._

Sans let out a long breath. He’d discussed this a few times, but it still felt raw, and the sudden mention of those vines still felt like a punch to the chest. All too suddenly he was hearing Papyrus crying out in pain, Alphys sobbing, evil laughter, flashes of gold--

And teary eyes over a small white muzzle, sobbed out apologies in a dusty bar.

Sans took several deep breaths. He counted to ten. His fingers stopped shaking and he went to type.

_*legendaryfartmaster89: yeah, ur right. u should have said something earlier. but i should have too_

_*legendaryfartmaster89: im just as guilty as you are about that. we both made mistakes and sorry doesnt fix it huh?_

_*ALPHYS: ...Yeah._

_*ALPHYS: … But I’m trying to move past it. And so are you. Is Ms. Gray helping?_

_*legendaryfartmaster89: shes callin me out on a lot of my shit_

_*legendaryfartmaster89: shes a badass bunny thats for sure._

_*ALPHYS: lmao right??? Like geez I came in crying cause I couldn’t get myself to go outside, way to call me out._

_*legendaryfartmaster89: does she give that soul-piercing glare when you’re trying to avoid a subject?_

_*ALPHYS: God yes. She’s worse than you. >.<_

_*legendaryfartmaster89: wow ok rude al._

Sans chuckled to himself, leaning back in the office chair. He let out a breath, feeling his grin spread across his face. It felt good, commiserating with someone who understood.

_*legendaryfartmaster89: thanks for recommending her. she really is helping a lot more than i thought she would._

_*ALPHYS: You’re welcome. I hope she gave you shit for making fun of my coping mechanisms. DX_

_*legendaryfartmaster89: ouch. fair im sorry about that i really am._

_*legendaryfartmaster89: and im sorry i took so long to apologize. ive got a lot of shit to work through and i can be a real dick._

_*ALPHYS: At least you admit it. :3_

_Sans snickered, shaking his head._

_*legendaryfartmaster89: so are we cool?_

_*ALPHYS: Mmm…. almost. I expect you to watch anime to make it up to me!_

_*legendaryfartmaster89: what_

_*ALPHYS: Yes! I’ve decided, as punishment for being a jerk, you have to watch Madoka with me! The whole series and the movies!_

_*legendaryfartmaster89: aw cmon al no_

_*ALPHYS: Nope, I’m not budging on this buster! It’s anime time! ^_^ Besides, it’s my turn to spend time with you anyway, since you’re still grounded._

Sans let out an audible groan at this as he typed.

_*legendaryfartmaster89: i cant believe u people are sticking with this. im an adult._

_*ALPHYS: An adult who’s grounded! I hope you’re ready for THE FEELS!_

Sans let out another groan, putting his face in his hands. After a few moments, however, he gave a good-natured sigh and typed again.

_*legendaryfartmaster89: yeah yeah fine u can take me to weeb town next time i see you._

_*legendaryfartmaster89: for now i gotta get back to homework tho breaks over_

_*ALPHYS: Oh, okay! Remember to pace yourself, it’s okay to take breaks and if you need to sleep, listen to your body!_

_*ALPHYS: You’re still in recovery and you’re going to have good days and bad days. Sometimes depression will kick your butt even when you do your best, you just gotta be honest with yourself and do the best you can._

_*ALPHYS: Be gentle with yourself, mister! ^_^_

Sans felt something dark curl where his stomach would be. Every part of him resisted that phrase-- how could he be gentle with himself when he was already so lazy? So many years spent slacking and not doing nearly enough at his jobs, let alone all those other things, and now he couldn’t handle freaking homework? It was pathetic, why had he ever thought this was--

_*ALPHYS: Sans? I’m serious. I know you’re only taking part time classes right now and you probably still need a lot of breaks. And that’s okay if you do, when my depression is bad I’m the same way. That’s okay._

*ALPHYS: You don’t get mad at me when I get bad, do you?

_*legendaryfartmaster89: ...no._

_*ALPHYS: Then why treat yourself that way?_

Sans considered her words. Then he sighed.

_*legendaryfartmaster89: ur spending too much time with ms gray_

_*legendaryfartmaster89: but ur right. thanks al._

_*ALPHYS: You’re welcome! ^_^_

_*legendaryfartmaster89: im gonna go work now_

_*ALPHYS: Okay! Ganbatte, Sans!_

Sans chuckled under his breath as he clicked away from the Undernet. His homework glowed before him and as he stared at a problem, he found the connections once again came easy.

“What a dork,” He murmured. He wasn’t sure if he was talking about himself or Alphys.

\---

_The dust Is everywhere. It clings in clumps to their face, to their hair, cakes under their fingernails. Bits of green plant matter from Azzy (poor, poor Azzy) are smeared across their shirt. Their eyes burn, their mouth burns, the blackness of your shared soul stains their lips sour. Words drip along with it, hissing, cold, inhuman, spoken for someone Frisk could not see._

_“My ‘human soul’. My ‘determination.’ They were not mine, but yours.” The words that are not yours are so familiar now, you could repeat them yourself if your lips were still yours. But they are not, they have not been in such a long time, and you cannot stop this. You cannot stop this and how can you want to? This was the final retribution, the final punishment, the thing you and whoever Chara speaks to deserve most of all._

_The question comes. Your hands shake, the first motion that’s truly yours in such a long time. You are so afraid, and it’s so stupid, but you know what comes next and you dread it, you’re so scared, you--_

_“How curious. You must have misunderstood.”_

_Your mouth is dry, your hands shake, the dust mixes with the bile as their mouth opens._

“ **SINCE WHEN WERE YOU THE ONE IN CONTROL**?”

_The knife is turned on you now, a sickening squelch as they slam it into your stomach, again, again, their laughter is in your ears and you know and you and that person deserve it but you still--_

Frisk awoke with a choked scream, flying upright in a flourish of blankets and messy brown hair. They sat in the darkness, shaking, sucking down gulps of air as they took in the warm glow of their Mew Mew Kissy Cutie night light. Their eyes flicked from their dresser to their desk to the mirror, taking in familiar landmarks. This was their room, not a dark void, and they were safe.

Although Sans sitting at the foot of their bed wasn’t exactly standard. He was clad in a pair of blue pajama pants to go with his usual baggy t-shirt and jacket, his expression tired, back dipping forward under some imaginary weight. When he turned to them, his good eyelight and dimmer socket flickered weakly over his gentle smile.

“Heya kiddo. Nightmare?”

Frisk nodded, sheets pulled up to their chin. Their confusion must have shown on their face because Sans chuckled, his better eyelight glittering in the dark like star. “Me too. I figured if I was havin’ a rough night, maybe you were in the same boat.” There was a moment of silence. “Sorry, that’s probably weird.”

Frisk shrugged and Sans gave a chuckle. “Yeah, that’s fair. I’ll fill Tori in when she wakes up, probably rude to not say hi to the lady of the house.” At the child’s headshake, he frowned. “Uh, pretty sure it’d be wrong of me not to tell her, bud.”

Another head shake. “Don’t want her to know,” Frisk whispered, voice a hoarse croak. The skeleton fixed them with a look and Frisk shook their head again, wrapping themselves up in blankets. “She’s already worried about us enough. I can’t…” They trailed off, words catching in their throat. Then came a quiet whine as they wrapped their arms around their stomach, shivering.

Sans watched them for another moment. Then he sighed and rose, the springs of the bed creaking as he did so. “C’mon, let’s get you some warm milk.” With those words he scooped the child up from the bed, blanket and all, and padded toward the kitchen on bare feet. Frisk reflexively put their arms around his neck, pressing their face into the fur lining of the jacket. The comforting scent of ketchup, Grillby’s grease and dryer lint wafted over them, anchoring them to the space.

There was a snap of Sans’ fingers before the warm yellow light above the stove turned on, bathing the kitchen in a gentle glow without the harshness of the overhead lighting. This task done, Sans deposited Frisk on one of the kitchen stools before cracking open the fridge. “Let’s see here-- ah, here we go. Warm milk or hot cocoa?” He glanced back at Frisk, who gave him a look. He chuckled. “Sorry, silly question.” With those words he flicked his fingers, using blue magic to open a cupboard and take down two mugs.

Frisk watched him work for a moment, then tapped their fingers on the countertop before gesturing to their eye, then Sans’.

“Oh, my eyelight?” Sans asked, gesturing as well. He shrugged as he turned to pouring the milk by hand. “Yeah, my vision’s never coming back, but my magic reserves are better enough that I can put something there if I gotta. I didn’t think to grab my eyepatch before I left, so I figured I was better off not traumatizing you when you woke up.” As he spoke, he deposited the mugs in the microwave before turning back to his charge.

The child flashed a tired smile as they signed. _“Thank you. You can let it go now, I’m not scared anymore.”_

Sans frowned. “You sure?” At their ensuing nod, he shrugged, then let the light flicker out. The child at the counter felt their stomach drop, but relaxed as he added. “Sorry, I know it’s a bit of an eyesore.”

Frisk shook their head. _“No, it’s just… you know. But I want to get used to it.”_ Their shoulders became a solid wall at this, expression set into one of grim determination.

The skeleton let out a sigh as he leaned back against the countertop, backlit by the dual glows of the microwave interior and stovetop light. “Yeah. I know that feel, kid. I just don’t wanna trig-- scare you, you know.” He grimaced like the near slip of word had left a bad taste in his mouth.

The child cocked their head to the side, mop of unruly hair falling across their shoulders. _“You meant trigger.”_

“Ugh,” Sans groaned as he put his hands over his face, then dragged them down over his cheekbones in an expression of frustration. “Yeah. Sorry. I know we’ve been at this therapy thing for a few months but it’s still so… and then the internet has really killed the meaning, so that doesn’t help at all. Also I’m turning this into a thing about my issues, sorry bud.”

 _“It’s okay,”_ Frisk signed. _“It’s hard for me too.”_

“Mmm.” Sans tugged the microwave open with a quick flick of his fingers, stopping it a mere second away from beeping into the quiet night. “Well. Since we’re on the subject of therapy, I oughta ask. Do you wanna talk about your nightmare?” As he spoke he opened a cupboard with another gesture and pulled out two packets of hot cocoa mix, though he still pulled out a spoon by hand. His gaze did not leave Frisk’s.

The child shook their head as they watched this magic display. After a moment, however, they looked down at their hands and began to sign. _“It was about… after. The part you don’t know, the part after our fight. Where we see Dad, and Azzy, where we…”_ They swallowed, even without words the lump in their throat was suffocating. _“Where Azzy kills him because he’s scared of us, and still we….”_ They shivered, putting their face in their hands.

Sans gently placed their favorite Pokemon mug in front of them. Brightly colored marshmallows, as well as a few remaining clumps of mix, swirled invitingly in the steaming drink. “Wait ‘til it’s cool,” The skeleton reminded as Frisk’s small fingers threaded around the mug. “Do you wanna keep talking or no?”

Frisk hesitantly nodded. “I… it’s… after that. After we… after Azzy, Chara always talked to… someone. The Player, that’s what they told me. And they were always so mad and they never sounded like them, they sound like…” They shivered before blue magic adjusted the blanket around their shoulders. “...They always kill us, in the end. They take our hands, my hands, and they take the knife and they…” Frisk felt the blood drain from their face, their hands shook so hard the mug followed suit. Blue magic quickly steadied the mug, stopping the splash of hot cocoa before it could scald them.

“I deserve it,” Frisk croaked out. “I always deserved it, I know that. I know I always deserve to die, but it still…” Their voice cracked into the first shaking, quiet sob as they released the mug, legs curling upward toward their chest. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, this isn’t fair after I--”

“Shhhh.” Sans was abruptly on the stool next to them, pulling them into a sidehug. “It’s okay. Dying is scary, I get it. It’s okay to cry.”

Upon being given permission, Frisk crumpled into his jacket. Their voice came out in small broken sentences,, punctuated by whimpers and shuddering sobs. Sans rubbed their back and murmured out gentle reassurances. Eventually he went from reassurances to humming a tune, something gentle and slow that spoke of a quiet dinner at an overpriced restaurant and a personal story that meant so much to both of them.

Finally Frisk’s sobs seemed to have quieted and they pulled away, rubbing at their eyes. _“Sorry,”_ They signed with shaking hands. _“That wasn’t fair to you.”_

Sans’ brow furrowed as he rubbed their back. “Not sure what you’re getting at, Frisky Bizz.”

Frisk shook their head violently. _“Don’t be nice to me. I don’t deserve it.”_

“Okay, now you’ve got me real worried,” Sans said. “What’s with you going on about what you deserve and don’t deserve?”

The child next to him took a long, shaky breath, averting their eyes to the ground as they signed. _“I killed everyone. I killed you. I had a good reason, but like you said, that doesn’t excuse it. So if I have nightmares about me d….”_ Their fingers clenched into a fist over the obvious sign, then shook their head. _“If I have nightmares about that, that’s fair and I shouldn’t complain.”_

“But you don’t deserve that, kid. The only thing you deserve is some delicious hot cocoa, which should be safe to drink now.” Sans said pointedly, then nudged Frisk’s hot cocoa in their direction. Frisk took it slowly and sipped as the skeleton continued to talk. “Listen. Yeah, you did some bad things, I’m not gonna deny it. But in the end, it was for a good reason and it wasn’t really in your control. Plus, in the end… honestly, knowing what I know about who you did it for… well, I get it.” He fixed them with a look as he gestured, drawing his own hot cocoa to him with a flicker of magic. “If your Judge is saying you don’t deserve nightmares, I think you’re good to go, kid.”

Frisk took a sip of cocoa, then gazed up at him with puffy red eyes. “But…” Their voice got caught in their throat for a moment, then they tried again. “Up on the mountain, you said I did deserve it. You said I deserved a lot of things.”

Sans felt his soul drop to the floor mid-cocoa sip. “Thought I told you I didn’t mean that.” He said quietly as he set his mug back down on the countertop.

The child frowned at him, setting their own cocoa aside. _“You said that. But I know that’s not true. I can tell when you’re lying, Sans, and nothing you said on Mount Ebott was a lie.”_

The motion of Frisk’s hands may as well have been a hammer to Sans’ ribs. “I… look kid, you’re not wrong, but--”

 _“You said you wanted me dead!”_ Frisk’s signs were pointed now, growing surprisingly sharp as their pain turned outward. _“You said everything Underground was a lie! You said I ruined everything and you meant it! You said we were never friends and I don’t even count as a person!”_

Sans winced. “Yeah uh. I was pretty harsh.”

 _“So what? You were right, it’s what I deserve!”_ Tears were coming to Frisk’s eyes again, their face crumpling once more. They swiped at the tears quickly, shaking their head. _“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be saying anything. If this is the price I pay for killing everyone, then it’s fair. I have to live with my actions and I have to live with your words… that’s what you would have said in the Hall.”_

“Hey, now you’re putting words in my mouth,” Sans murmured as he reached an arm around Frisk’s shoulders and pulled them close once more. “Listen, Frisk. You’re right, when we were up on the mountain, at the time I meant everything. I was angry, and yeah, given what happened I had a right to be angry. I’m not gonna lie, some of what I said needed to be said. But how I said it? That was real shitty of me. “

Frisk frowned up at him. _“But you were just being honest.”_

Sans shook his head as he reached up and began running his fingers through the child’s hair. “There’s a difference between honesty and just being mean. I wasn’t focused on expressing my problems with you clearly, I just wanted to vent all the junk I had stocked up and you were a convenient target. I basically just trauma vomited all over you and that wasn’t okay. I could’ve worded all of that in a way that expressed how I felt without tearing you down. Also, y’know, probably could have avoided nearly dropping you back into the Underground, that might’ve been just a tad overboard.”

The child under his arm flashed a watery smile. _“Maybe a little bit overboard.”_

That got a snort of laughter from Sans. “Sorry about that. And about everything else I said, really. I was mad about what you and that other kid did, and yeah, I had a right to be. And it’s true that when I made friends with you Underground, some small part of it was because I was trying to make sure you wouldn’t reset. But you and me being pals, being so close… I meant that, I meant every word. And every damn reset you ever did, every fight we had… you wanna know what the worst part was? Deep down, in spite of all that, for some dumb reason I still liked you.” He let out a sigh as he finally took another sip of his cooling cocoa.

“I meant what I said up there at the time. I hated you. I was really mad. But what I didn’t tell you is at the end of the day, in spite of everything… you’re still my kid and you always were. Every reset, you changed. You got a little better. Even when you got worse, there was something about you… I dunno. Maybe it was just that you were the only one who would remember, so maybe I just was happy to have someone else who kinda knew where I was at. In spite of it all, you were still you, and no matter how mad I got, I couldn’t ignore that. Is that weird?” He glanced down at Frisk, expression surpsingly open and honest.

Frisk shook their head. “ _I felt the same way. No matter what was going on, no matter what I did, you were there. You were the only one who was always there and the only one who could understand. When it would all happen, I… all I ever wanted was to talk to you, and it hurt most of all because I couldn’t.”_

“Mmm,” Sans took another sip of the cocoa. “Sorry kiddo, I kept that up for way longer than necessary.”

 _“It’s okay,”_ Frisk signed. _“I forgive you.”_

Sans let out a small laugh at that, bitterness tainting the noise. “Yeah, that sounds about right for you. But while I’m at it, I really am sorry for what I said up on the mountain. I was a real jerk.”

“Ass,” Frisk spoke the word aloud, beaming up at him as they finally pulled away. “You were a real ass.”

That pulled a true laugh from Sans. “Whoa, language there kiddo. You’re gonna have to put a quarter in the swear jar.”

Frisk stuck out their tongue as they signed. _“So do you!”_

The skeleton chuckled, the laughter a warm, deep boom in his chest. “How about we call it tit for tat as long as Tori doesn’t know, hm? I’m a college student now you know, I’m broke by default.” He reached out to ruffle Frisk’s hair, then hopped off his stool. “Well, our hot cocoa’s not really hot anymore. I know a second microwaving is heresy, but I won’t tell if you don’t.”

Frisk watched the mugs float away toward the microwave again, then tapped the countertop for attention. “Why did you lie about having a nightmare tonight?”

Sans entire body tensed mid-button tap. “Can’t sneak nothing by ya, can I kiddo?” He sighed as he entered forty seconds into the machine, then turned back to Frisk. “Yeah, you’re right. To be honest, I don’t sleep as much as I used to, period. I mean, it’s better than this past summer, but… y’know.”

_“Is it because of me?”_

The skeleton let out another sigh as he rubbed the back of his skull. “What’dya want me to say? I wish I had a better answer.” He began to fiddle absently with the strings of his jacket. “I know it’s not fair. I know you’re not planning on resetting. But we got to the surface so many times, only to have you reset…”

Frisk winced. _“I’m not going to reset. I haven’t, not even over small things anymore.”_

“I know,” Sans muttered, words dripping with something sour. “And I know that logically, I know you’d never… not anymore. Your friends are okay now, you have no reason to reset. But I go to bed and all I can worry about is what I’m gonna do if I wake up in Snowdin again. How do I keep my cool hearing Pap talking about the same damn day? How do I meet you again and keep it cool cause I don’t want to end up having the same morning three times in nine hours? How--” The microwave beeped. Both Sans and Frisk flinched, looking to the hallway and Toriel’s room.

When there was no sound of the boss monster rising for several minutes, both relaxed. Sans let out a chuckle as he popped the microwave open. “Also, most importantly, how am I gonna survive all that vintage Papyrus spaghetti?” He cracked a smile as he watched the tension bleed away just a bit from Frisk’s shoulders. “Look. I know you wouldn’t do the thing. But Ms. Gray says it’s good to get reaffirmation if you can, and well… I gotta learn to start trusting your word again.”

The child nodded as the hot cocoa was slid in front of them once more. “I promise,” They whispered. “I promise, I’m not going to reset. Never again. I don’t want to, this is the best possible ending. Chara and Azzy are happy. Everyone is happy. Even if they all know what I did, even if it’s hard... “ Frisk paused, taking a shaky breath. “I don’t want to go back. Never again.”

“Well that makes two of us,” Sans murmured as he hopped on his stool again, then sipped at his hot cocoa. “Although for the record-- if something real bad happens, I’m not opposed to it.” At Frisk’s somewhat grim expression, he smiled. “Look, all I’m saying is that tussle at Mandy’s wedding could have been avoided if you’d just reset and distracted Asgore. We wouldn’t have had any bouquets getting stuck in his horns and then maybe Mettaton wouldn’t have wrestled Mandy’s Mom for them.”

Frisk giggled as they took a sip of their own hot cocoa. “You know we couldn’t have avoided that! Papyrus was so excited when he caught his bouquet!”

Sans let out a sigh, though he was grinning. “True, true. Lesbian weddings are a trip. Twice the bouquets, twice the gay. Good practice for Alphys and Undyne’s wedding I guess.”

 _“You’re performing that ceremony too?”_ Frisk signed and Sans winked.

“You know it.”

The child let out an excited gasp. _“How many fish and dinosaur puns are you going to fit into it!?”_

“Eh, I’ve got a school of ‘em.” Sans snickered.

The two shared a laugh as they both nursed their cocoa. After some comfortable silence, Sans spoke. “Hey. For the record, whenever you have a nightmare… Whenever you're thinking stuff like what you were thinking, I want you to call me. No matter what time it is, no matter what I’m doing, if you need me, I’m gonna be there. You got that?”

Frisk blinked up at him, then flashed a warm smile. _“Okay. And I’ll always be there for you if you need it. Since I understand what you went through better than anybody.”_

Sans frowned for a moment. He’d meant for his statement to be for Frisk, not… but no, that was fair. He needed to learn to accept it, that occasionally he was the one who needed help. “Yeah. Okay, I appreciate that. Thanks kid.”

“Promise,” Frisk’s voice came out surprisingly clear in the quiet kitchen. Sans visibly flinched from the word, but Frisk did not back down, brown eyes firm as they looked at him. “You have to promise you’ll be there. And I’ll promise too.”

The skeleton considered these words for a moment. “You know I hate making promises,” He said as he swirled the cocoa in his half empty mug. He then let out a sigh, glancing over to the child and smiling. “But I can’t deny you anything, can I kid? Yeah, I promise. You can count on me.”

Frisk’s smile was back in full force. “And I promise I’ll always be there for you.”

Sans beamed as the two clicked their hot cocoa mugs together. There was still a small twinge he had trouble shaking at the notion of a promise-- but his kid’s smile, wide and true, made it pretty easy to ignore. They both sipped at their cocoa, then Sans snickered. “You know kid, I can’t help but feel like your cocoa mustache is taking away from the seriousness of this conversation.”

The child blinked in surprise, then reached up to scrub at their lips. Sans full on laughed at that. The two were soon trying desperately to stifle their laughter, the sound brightening the room better than any overhead lighting ever could.

It felt right.

\---

There was a familiar bite to the air as Sans stepped outside. He took a deep breath, then expelled it, watching the puff of magic-warmed breath trail into darkness. Thick, wet snowflakes clung to the fur lining of his jacket like home. Of course, the snow was far thicker than it had been back in Snowdin, and something about it felt cleaner-- made at some nebulous point in the sky as opposed to forming from cave ceiling runoff. Also, unlike home, Sans had a walk to shovel, so he supposed he may as well get to it.

Sans whistled as he made his way down the porch steps, a child’s snow shovel slung over his shoulder. The snow was already nearly to his knees, which would have made his choice of shorts in this weather a poor one if he’d cared about that sort of thing. At least he’d chosen to wear a long-sleeved shirt beneath his jacket. The cheap vinyl lettering of Ebott Community College was already cracking and fading from wear and tear, nevermind that he’d gotten the shirt mere weeks ago.

Once he made it to the start of the driveway, Sans planted the edge of the shovel into the snow, leaving it to stand straight. He then held out a hand and squeezed it into a fist. Blue magic coiled to life around a good five square feet or so of snow. With a gesture the powder was lifted cleanly from the driveway, then moved to the front yard. A grin flickered to his face unbidden as the snow pile glittered. The light of his magic mixed with the glow of the holiday lights Papyrus had coiled around small trees and every part of Toriel’s house, creating an impressive spectacle. After watching it for a moment, Sans let the snowpile drop unceremoniously in the center of the yard, then turned back to his work.

 _“Well the city,”_ He sang gently under his breath as he scooped up more snow. _“Can’t please everyone. But I’m stuck on a winning streak…”_ Sans wasn't sure when the last time he'd sung to himself had been. He’d sing off key to bug Papyrus, sure, but for himself? Never. But one of his classmates had recommended The Walkmen to him, citing it as “dad music in the sense that everyone in the band is now a dad” and well, that was a pretty good sell.

The fact that he was willingly doing yard work without being pushed was also a surprise… but well, he had some ulterior motives.

A warm thrumming pulled Sans from his thoughts, and he glanced up in time to see Toriel’s minivan pull into the newly cleared driveway. His face split into its usual grin as Frisk flung themselves out of the car before the headlights had even been turned off. They tore across the yard, bright red scarf trailing behind them before they slammed into Sans for a hug.

“Hey there kiddo,” Sans chuckled as he squeezed them back. “How was Christmas shopping?”

Frisk pulled away and signed excitedly with gloved fingers. _“Perfect! My list is all done and I can’t wait to wrap them!”_

“Is that so?” Sans drawled. “Well, what’d ya get me?”

The child giggled and lightly batted him on the arm with the end of their coat sleeve. _“You know I can’t tell you, it’s a surprise!”_

The skeleton shrugged. “Eh, can’t blame a guy for trying. Need some help there, Tori?” He called out, watching as the boss monster began to unload bags from the trunk. Frisk let out a little “oh!” of surprise and rushed back to the car to help.

“And have you peeking? I do not think so,” Toriel tutted good naturedly as she stepped away from the van. A snowy wind had her long ears and thick skirts gently billowing in the wind. “I am surprised to see you out here. Finals were today, were they not?”

“Yep!” Sans put his hands in his pockets as he spoke, enjoying the feel of the winter breeze. “Pretty sure I aced it, though I won’t know until grades are posted. But between that and my current grades, I’m pretty confident about the final score-- speaking of which, do you know what my favorite seventies band is?”

“Oh no, do not worry Frisk, I’ve got them,” Toriel gently waved Frisk off before looking to Sans and flashing a knowing smile. “I do not know, what is your favorite seventies band?”

“The Bee Gees.”

Toriel’s laughter echoed through the winter evening, the sound high and clear. “Well good for you, Sans, though let us not count your chickens before they hatch.”

“I'm not, I just couldn't resist the joke. “ Sans chuckled.

“Fair enough,” The boss monster chuckled. “Are Papyrus and Undyne still out getting the tree?”

“Just who do you think this snow pile is for, hm?” Sans winked with his good eye, mindful of the eyepatch now. “Perfect chance to get a headstart on some snow monsters.”

 _“So you didn’t just shovel the driveway to impress mom?”_ Frisk signed.

“Little of Column A, little of Column B. Now are you gonna help me or what?” Sans asked, cocking his head to the side.

Toriel chuckled at Frisk’s excited expression. “Go on. I’ll prepare some hot cocoa for when you are all ready to come inside.”

 _“Thanks Mom!”_ Frisk snatched up the child’s snowshovel as if it were the sword in the stone, then rushed over to help Sans.

Twenty minutes later, Sans was giving a whistle of appreciation as Frisk scraped out the details of Papyrus’ grin with the snow shovel. “I gotta say, you’re way better at this than me. I mean, your Paps lacks his muscle definition, but I guess you could argue it’s more true to life.” He gestured lazily to the pile of snow to its left labeled ‘Undyne’. There were a few twigs sticking out of the top of it, a red handkerchief, and one of Sans’ eyepatches had been placed on it as well. “I still feel I captured her essence though.”

Frisk frowned. _“Why the sticks?”_

“Cause she’s got sticky fins.”

Frisk batted his arm with the end of their coat sleeve again, giggling.

“OH MY GOD!” Papyrus’ excited gasp echoed across the lawn. He stood by his car, mittened hands pressed to his face in an expression of undying glee “F-Frisk, is that who I think it is!?” Frisk beamed and nodded, causing the skeleton to all but explode with joy. “Why, it’s perfect! You captured my essence! You are a true artist, though how could you not with a subject as great as I am?”

“Hey, that’s pretty good, punk!” Undyne said as she stepped out of the convertible, then frowned as she stared at the lump of snow next to it. “Uh. Is that…?”

“Ta-da.” Sans lazily waved in a poor approximation of jazz hands.

“...I feel like I oughta slug you for slander,” Undyne growled as she brushed pine needles off of her jacket.

“Love you too, Undies.”

Alyphys giggled as she stepped out of the car as well, shutting the door once before realizing she clearly hadn’t given it enough force and needed to try again. “W-well, you tried. I think,” She stuttered, her shivers obvious as she stepped into the cold.

“Nah, I didn’t at all,” Sans shrugged. “We were gonna do the rest of the fam, but well, you’re home so it’s not much of a surprise.”

Frisk nodded in agreement as they rushed over to the car. _“That’s a big tree!”_ They signed with snow-coated gloves, pointing to the beast awkwardly tied into the backseat. Branches stuck every which way, a hazard to all within ten feet of it. Suddenly the pine needles Undyne was picking out of her hair made sense.

“The biggest one we could find!” Undyne crowed happily, putting her hands on her hips with a cascade of needles.

“You uh, remembered it has to go through the door this year, right?” Sans asked, quirking a brow as he brushed the snow off his jacket.

“Why, of course we did brother!” Papyrus huffed. “What do you take us for?” He paused as he glanced at the door, frowning. “Erm…”

Undyne rolled her eyes. “It’ll be fine, Paps, we just gotta shove it through. Just use your magic to keep the branches from going too crazy!”

“I-it’ll fit, I m-measured everything!” Alphys insisted, waving gloved claws. “I promised her majesty I- ooh, brrrrr!” She shivered violently, hugging her arms around herself.

“Aw, you did good babe!” Undyne said as she wrapped an arm around her girlfriend. “Thanks for coming with us, Paps and I woulda forgot. We’ll have this inside in a jiff and you can warm up.”

“So d’ya need help getting it inside?” Sans asked as he approached the car. Papyrus was in the process of detangling the tree, whistling cheerfully to himself.

“What’s this? Why Sans, has the Holiday Spirit seeped into your bones?” The taller skeleton exclaimed as he turned to beam at his older brother.

“More like I’m worried one of you is gonna put a hole in Tori’s drywall again. C’mon, you and me can move it while Undyne can keep the branches steady.” He flicked his fingers, blue light dancing along the branches.

Between the three of them, the trip from Papyrus’ car to Toriel’s living room was a relatively painless affair. Aside from the casualty of some pine needles, the tree made it in and upright without complaint. Soon enough they were all tugging off snow-caked boots and tossing coats onto chairs, then guiltily returning the coats to hangers under Toriel’s glare.The evening after that was a whirlwind of hot cocoa and decorations, laughter ringing out amongst the jazzy holiday album Sans had pulled up on his phone.

It was a familiar sort of chaos, something Sans had grown accustomed to over the past few interactions on the surface. This did not change the twinge he felt as he heard Undyne excitedly yell about their second surface Christmas Party-- because no, that was wrong, they’d gone through at least seven surface Christmas parties. The twinge lessened as his eyes met Frisk’s. He flashed a weak smile, they nodded, he returned to trying to fit as many tree-based puns as he could into the evening. It was familiar, sure, but that look had been different, to say nothing of the numerous questions regarding how his final exams had gone.

Besides, some things weren’t so bad to repeat.

Hours later, the chaos gave way to a pile of sleepy monsters watching some anime Christmas special while the snow drifted outside. Undyne and Alphys curled up on the floor in front of the television, Alphys’ little squeals of delight over her ship coming to fruition drawing a grin from her girlfriend. Toriel sat in her armchair, knitting away at a rather large sweater with a sunflower design on the front. Papyrus was snoring loudly on the couch, heedless of Sans leaning into his side. Frisk curled up against Sans, completing the snuggle pile.

There was a tap on his arm, Sans glanced down to meet Frisk’s gaze. _“Are you okay? After what Undyne mentioned earlier?”_ They signed.

“Hm? Yeah, I’m fine kiddo,” Sans shrugged. “It’s just a small thing.”

The child’s brow furrowed into a glare, their cheeks puffed as they reached out to poke his face.

“Okay, okay,” Sans sighed. “Yeah, it got me. Sometimes it comes up and it bugs me, and yeah, I still have bad days like you. Technically this is Christmas what, eight? But your resets never lasted more than a year.” He scratched his head. “So...y’know, this is the our first second Christmas. So we’re moving forward. I think that’s gotta be enough for now.”

Frisk blinked up at him for a moment. Then their face spread into a smile and they relaxed again, focusing on the screen. “Second Christmas,” they murmured. “I like it.”

“Mmm. Me too.” Sans settled back, letting his eyes finally close. The sound of Papyrus snores washed over him, the gentle click of Toriel’s knitting needles. Alphys’ squeaks and squeals joined Undyne’s uproarious laughter, Frisk’s warmth pressed into his side. He let himself drift away on these sensations, let himself be anchored by the feeling of home.

Sans fell asleep. Things were good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. Here we are at the end. I started this fanfic back in August 2016. I had just finished Undertale way later than everyone else had and the characters resonated with me in a way nothing else had. I was also on a week's stay-cation from my very stressful office day job. The day before that vacation started, I had a panic attack that had me sobbing in my office for nine hours. So uh, obviously that feeling put a bit of a damper on that vacation. It felt good to get away and endlessly consume fanfiction, but I had the looming stress of that job to go back to. I suffer from depression, Generalized Anxiety Disorder and OCD, also a whole lot of burnout.
> 
> I spent a lot of time seeking out Sans angst to help project my feelings, and most fics I found only explored the Skelebros in relation to Sans' depression and trauma, or the Skelebros and maybe Frisk. Also there were plenty that depicted Frisk just as a straight villain who ruined Sans' life, and that didn't sit well with me. Undertale to me has always felt like a game about how no person is truly evil, everyone has their motivations and reasons-- it doesn't excuse bad actions, but to me the point of the game is to try to reach a place of understanding. So I decided I wanted to focus on that theme, as well as explore how the trauma of a post Soulless Pacifist run would affect everyone, not just the Skelebros and Frisk. Also, y'know, I wanted to indulge in a depressive breakdown without actually risking my day job.
> 
> Shortly after I posted the Undyne Fight chapter, I was laid off from that job. It was a bullshit experience and I don't think I'll ever be over it, but the funny thing? Once I was free of that, once I got past my initial depressive drop from that failure... I didn't feel like I needed to write NR anymore. I wanted to, of course, because I love these characters and I wanted to explore the themes and depths of the emotions I'd put into the fic. My various mental illnesses are still here, of course, but it's... better, if I'm honest. I'm not writing this to say "hey if you feel like Sans quit your day job", this is more just a reflection for my own benefit and an explanation for why those last four chapters took so damn long.
> 
> I know some people are probably going to complain about Sans going to therapy at the end. To be honest, I struggle with it a bit myself. Whenever someone talks about therapy or "safe spaces" or "triggers" in a fanfic, I have this kneejerk "wow cut the tumblr please" reaction, which I think is ingrained in our society as a whole. If I'm honest, I could use therapy myself, and my hope is to go once I have my health insurance stuff fixed up. I get that this may feel preachy and a bit on the nose. In spite of this, I think it's important to be honest about mental health. So I sent everyone to therapy who needed it, because I may as well start addressing that in my fiction.
> 
> I am not saying if you feel like Sans or Frisk, you MUST attend therapy. There are plenty of things you can do for healthy self treatment that are google search away. But that stuff about talking to people close to you? That stuff about not putting yourself down? Taking little steps to do what you can every day, being kind to yourself about the fact that recovery takes time? I will preach that until I'm red in the face. I know a lot of people read this fic to cope with their own issues, that callout Sans does to Alphys is something I wrote for myself. If you have close friends or family? Talk to them. They want to listen. If you don't? Contact me. You can contact me here on A03, you can contact me on my tumblr digi-wears-goggles.
> 
> I don't know if I will write more Undertale after this. The Judge Sans one-shot is at least partially written, and I do have more ideas. Unfortunately, my focus is kind of drifting from Undertale. I got really involved in the fan community for Undertale the Musical on youtube. From there, I was hired into Internet Remix (which is most the group that made the musical) as an artist and skit writer. So if you want to see more of my writing, I hope you will all check out Internet Remix on youtube! I am also an Art Director for Lemonlight Production's Undertale Genocide The Musical.
> 
> Thank you everyone for taking the time to read this goddamn novel. Thank you to each of you who took the time to leave kudos and comments. Thank you to my beta reader/cheer reader Negloves for all the endless talks as we planned and wrote this monster together, it's been an absolute blast and means more than I have words for. Thank you to CaitieLou for reading the first chapter on youtube on my request, I listen to it far more than I should listen to my own writing.
> 
> Lastly, If you feel like Sans and you need a sign that someone cares-- this is it. I love you. Each and every one of you.


End file.
